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Prtttrfton  Blifologtral  g>pmtnary 


Schaff,  Philip,  1819-1893. 
Saint  Augustin,  Melanchthon 

Neander 

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WORKS  B  V  PHILIP  SCHAFF,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


THE  SCHAFF-HERZOG  ENCYCLOPEDIA.    A  Religions  Encyclopedia; 
or.  Dictionary  of  Biblical,  Historical,  Doctrinal  and  Practical  Theology. 
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full  of  interest,  both  from  the  subject  and  from  the  treatment." 


ST.  A  UGUSTINE.  MELANCTHOX  AND  N BANDER.  Three  Biographies, 
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FUNK  &  WAGNALLS,  Publishers,  lo  and  I2  Dey  St.,  New  York. 


^  .-XWV.  OF  P 

SAINT  AUGUSTIN,      -''^ 


■%fiSIMi. 


1/ 


MELANCHTHON,  NEANDER. 


THREE  BIOGRAPHIES 


PHILIP'^^CHAFF. 


NEW  YORK: 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS,   Publishers, 
10  AND  13  Dey  Street. 
1886.    ' 

All  Eights  Reserved. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tne  year  1885,  by 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


TO 


pttj  gcIoxrjexX  ^tntitnts 


f    DEDICATE    THESE    BIOGRAPHICAL     SKETCHES     OF 

ST.  AUGUSTIN,   MELANCHTHON,  AND  NEANDER, 

THE  CHURCH  FATHER,  THE  REFORMER,  AND  THE 
CHURCH  HISTORIAN, 


THREE   OF   THE   BEST   AMONG  THE   GREAT,    AND   OF  THE   GREATEST 
AMONG  THE   GOOD, 


AS  WITNESSES   OF  THE   UNITY   OF   THE   SPIRIT   IN   THE   DIVERSITIES  OF 

GIFTS, 


AND  AS   INSPIRING  EXAMPLES   OF   CONSECRATION  TO   THE   SERVICE 
OF  CHRIST. 


PHILIP   SCHAFF. 


UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY, 
New  York,  December,  188S, 


COJSTTEN^TS. 


SAINT  AUGUSTIN". 

PAGE 

Introductory 7 

Chapter  I.  Augustin's  Youtli 11 

Chapter  II.  Augustiu  at  Carthage 17 

Chapter  III.  Cicero's  Hortensius 19 

Chapter  IV.  Augustia  Among  the  Manichaeaiis 21 

Chapter  V.  The  Loss  of  a  Friend 24 

Chapter  VI.  Augustiu  Leaves  Manichseistn 23 

Chapter  VII.  Error  Overruled  for  Truth 28 

Chapter  VIII.  Augustiu  a  Skeptic  in  Rome  30 

Chapter  IX.  Augustiu  at  Milan.      St.  Ambrose 33 

Chapter  X.  Augustiu  a  Catechismau  in  the  Catholic  Church. . .  39 

Chapter  XI.  Monuica's  Arrival  44 

Chapter  XII.  Moral  Conflicts.     Project  of  Marriage 45 

Chapter  XIII.  Mental  Conflicts 48 

Chapter  XIV.  Influence  of  Platonism 50 

Chapter  XV.  Study  of  the  Scriptures 53 

Chapter  XVI.  Augustin's  Conversion 54 

Chapter  XVII.  Sojourn  in  the  Country 61 

Chapter  XVIII.  Augustin's  Baptism ...  66 

Chapter  XIX.  Monnica's  Last  Days  and  Death 68 

Chapter  XX.   Second  Visit  to  Rome,  and  Return  to  Africa 75 

Chapter  XXI.  Augustia   is   Appointed    Priest   and    Biphop   of 

Hippo 77 

Chapter  XXII.  Augustin's  Domestic  Life. ...    79 

Chapter  XXIII.    Administratiou    of  the   Episcopal   Office  and 

Public  Activity 81 

Chapter  XXIV.  Last  Years  and  Death 84 

Chapter  XXV.  Augustin's  Writings 86 

Chapter  XXVI.  Influence  of  Augustia  on  His  Own  and  Suc- 
ceeding Ages 96' 

Chapter  XXVII.  The  Augustinian  System 103 


vi  CONTENTS. 

MELANCHTHON. 

PAGK 

nis  Youth  and  Education 107 

Melanchtlion  in  Tubingen 109 

Melanchtbon  in  Wittenberg 110 

Lutlier  and  Melanchtbon 113 

Domestic  and  Private  Life  116 

The  Closing  Years  of  Melanchtbon 120 

His  Death 122 

His  Public  Character  and  Services 123 

REMINISCENCES  OF  NEANDER. 

Sketch  of  His  Life 128 

Neander's  Training  for  His  Work 132 

His  Outward  Appearance 137 

Home  Life 140 

Hannah  Neander 141 

Neander  as  a  Teacher 143 

Neander  as  a  Friend  of  Students 143 

His  Interest  in  Foreigners 147 

Character  of  Neander 148 

His  Tlieology 153 

The  Last  Birthday 155 

Sickness  and  Death 157 

The  Funeral 1G2 

A  Letter  of  Neander 1G5 


SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

The  chief,  almost  the  only  source  of  the  life  of 
St.  Augustin  till  the  time  of  his  conversion  is  his  auto- 
biography ;  his  faithful  friend,  Possidius,  added  a  few 
notices  ;  his  public  labors  till  his  death  are  recorded  in 
his  numerous  writings  ;  his  influence  is  written  on  the 
pages  of  mediaeval  and  modern  church  history. 

Among  religious  autobiographies  the  Confessions  of 
Augustin  still  hold  the  first  rank.  In  them  this  remark- 
able  man,  endowed  with  a  lofty  genius  and  a  burning 
heart,  lays  open  his  inner  life  before  God  and  the  world, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  life  of  God  in  his  own  soul, 
which  struggled  for  the  mastery,  and  at  last  obtained  it. 
A  more  honest  book  Vv^as  never  written.  He  conceals 
nothing,  he  palliates  nothing.  Like  a  faithful  witness 
against  himself,  standing  at  the  bar  of  the  omniscient 
Judge,  he  tells  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth.  Like  King  David,  in  the  fifty-first 
Psalm,  he  openly  confesses  his  transgressions  with  un- 
feigned sorrow  and  grief,  yet  in  the  joyous  conscious- 
ness of  forgiveness.  To  his  sense  of  sin  corresponds  his 
sense  of  grace  :  they  are  the  controlling  ideas  of  his 
spiritual  life  and  of  his  system  of  theology.  The  deeper 
the  descent  into  the  hell  of  self-knowledge,  the  higher 
the  ascent  to  the  knowledge  of  God. 

Augustin  might  have  kept  the  secret  of  his  youthful 
aberrations  ;   posterity  knows  them  only  from  his  pen. 


8  SAINT    AUGUSTIN. 

lie  committed  no  murder  nor  adultery,  like  the  King  of 
Israel  ;  he  never  denied  his  Saviour,  like  Peter  ;  he  was 
no  persecutor  of  the  Church,  like  Paul ;  his  sins  preceded 
his  conversion  and  baptism,  and  they  were  compatible 
with  the  highest  honor  in  heathen  society.  But  his 
Christian  experience  quickened  his  sense  of  guilt,  and  he 
told  the  story  for  his  own  humihation  and  for  the  glory 
of  God's  redeeming  grace. 

The  Confessions  are  a  solemn  soliloquy  before  the 
throne  of  the  Searcher  of  hearts  within  the  hearing  of 
the  world.  They  enter  into  the  deepest  recesses  of  re- 
ligious experience,  and  rise  to  the  lofty  summit  of  theo- 
logical thought.  They  exhibit  a  mind  intensely  pious 
and  at  the  same  time  intensely  speculative.  His  prayers 
are  meditations,  and  his  meditations  are  prayers  ;  and 
both  shine  and  burn  like  Africa's  tropical  sun.  They  re- 
flect, as  Guizot  says,  "  a  unique  mixture  of  passion  and 
gentleness,  of  authority  and  sympathy,  of  largeness  of 
mind  and  logical  rigor."  Dr.  Shedd  ranks  them  among 
those  rare  autobiographies  in  which  "the  ordinary  ex- 
periences of  human  life  attain  to  such  a  pitch  of  intensity 
and  such  a  breadth,  range,  and  depth  as  to  strike  the 
reader  with  both  a  sense  of  familiarity  and  a  sense  of 
strangeness.  It  is  his  own  human  thought  and  human 
feeling  that  he  finds  expressed  ;  and  yet  it  is  spoken 
with  so  much  greater  clearness,  depth,  and  energy  than 
he  is  himself  capable  of,  or  than  is  characteristic  of  the 
mass  of  men,  that  it  seems  like  the  experience  of  another 
sphere  and  another  race  of  beings."  * 

Even  in  a  psychological  and  literary  point  of  view  the 
Confessions  of  Augustin  rank  among  the  most  interest- 


*  Seo  the  thoughtful  introduction  to  his  edition  of  the  Confessions 
of  Auguslin,  Andover,  18G0,  p.  ix. 


INTRODUCTORY.  9 

ing  of  autobiographies,  and  are  not  inferior  to  Rousseau's 
Confessions  and  Goethe's  Truth  and  Fiction  j  while  in 
religious  value  there  is  no  comparison  between  them. 
They  are  equally  franlc,  and  blend  the  personal  with  the 
general  human  interest ;  but  while  the  French  philoso- 
pher and  the  German  poet  are  absorbed  in  the  analysis 
of  their  own  self,  and  dwell  upon  it  with  satisfaction,  the 
African  father  goes  into  the  minute  details  of  his  sins 
and  follies  with  intense  abhorrence  of  sin,  and  rises 
above  himself  to  the  contemplation  of  divine  mercy, 
which  delivered  him  from  the  degrading  slavery.  The 
former  wrote  for  the  glory  of  man,  the  latter  for  the 
glory  of  God.  Augustin  hved  in  an  age  when  the  West- 
ern Roman  Empire  was  fast  approaching  dissolution,  and 
the  Christian  Church,  the  true  City  of  God,  was  being 
built  on  its  ruins.  He  was  not  free  from  the  defects  of 
an  artificial  and  degenerate  rhetoric  ;  nevertheless  he 
rises  not  seldom  to  the  height  of  passionate  eloquence, 
and  scatters  gems  of  the  rarest  beauty.  He  was  master 
of  the  antithetical  power,  the  majesty  and  melody  of  the 
language  of  imperial  Rome.  Many  of  his  sentences  have 
passed  into  proverbial  use,  and  become  commonplaces  in 
theological  literature. 

Next  to  Augustin  himself,  his  mother  attracts  the 
attention  and  excites  the  sympathy  of  the  reader.  She 
walks  like  a  guardian  angel  from  heaven  through  his 
book  until  her  translation  to  that  sphere.  How  ]3ure  and 
strong  and  enduring  her  devotion  to  him,  and  his  devo- 
tion to  her  !  She  dried  many  tears  of  anxious  mothers. 
It  is  impossible  to  read  of  Monnica  without  a  profounder 
regard  for  woman  and  a  feeling  of  gratitude  for  Chris- 
tianity, which  raised  her  to  so  high  a  position. 

The  Confessions  were  written  about  a.d.  397,  ten 
years  after  Augustin's  conversion.     The  historical  part 


10  SAINT    AUGUSTIN. 

doses  with  his  conversion  and  with  the  death  of  his 
mother.  The  work  contains  much  that  can  be  fnlly 
understood  only  by  the  theologian  and  the  student  of 
history  ;  and  the  last  four  of  the  thirteen  books  are 
devoted  to  subtle  speculations  about  the  nature  of  mem- 
ory, eternity,  time,  and  creation,  which  far  transcend  the 
grasp  of  the  ordinary  reader.  Nevertheless  it  was  read 
with  great  interest  and  profit  in  the  time  of  the  writer, 
and  ever  since,  in  the  original  Latin  and  numerous  trans- 
lations in  various  lan^nao-es.  In  all  that  belong^s  to  eleva- 
tion,  depth,  and  emotion  there  are  few  books  so  edifying 
and  inspiring  and  so  well  worthy  of  careful  study  as 
Augustin's  Confessions. 

We  shall  endeavor  to  popularize  the  Confessions,  and 
to  supplement  the  biography  from  other  sources,  for  the 
instruction  and  edification  of  the  present  generation. 
The  life  of  a  great  genius  and  saint  like  Augustin  is  one 
of  the  best  arguments  for  the  religion  he  professed,  and 
to  which  he  devoted  his  mental  and  moral  energies. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

augusthst's  youth. 

AuRELius  AuGUSTiNus,  tliG  greatest  and  best,  and  the 
most  influential  of  tlie  Latin  cliurcli-fatliers,  was  born 
on  the  thirteenth  of  November,  354,  at  Tagaste,  in 
Niimidia,  North  Africa.  Ilis  birthplace  was  near  Hippo 
Kegius  (now  Bona),  where  he  spent  his  public  life  as 
presbyter  and  bishop,  and  where  he  died  in  the  seventy- 
sixth  year  of  his  age  (Aug.  28,  430).  He  belonged  to 
the  Punic  race,  which  was  of  Phoenician  origin,  but  be- 
came Latinized  in  language,  laws,  and  customs  nnder 
Koman  rule  since  the  destruction  of  Carthage  (b.c.  146), 
yet  retained  the  Oriental  temper  and  the  sparks  of  the 
genius  of  Hannibal,  the  sworn  enemy  of  Rome.  These 
traits  appear  in  the  writings  of  Tertullian  and  Cyprian, 
who  preceded  Augustin  and  jjrepared  the  way  for  his 
theology.  In  Angustin  we  can  trace  the  religious  in-"" 
tensity  of  the  Semitic  race,  tlie  tropical  fervor  of  Africa, 
the  Catholic  grasp  and  comprehensiveness  of  Rome,  and 
the  germs  of  an  evangelical  revolt  against  its  towering 
ambition  and  tyrannical  rule.  His  native  land  has  long 
since  been  laid  waste  by  the  barbarons  Yandals  (a.d.  439) 
and  tlie  Mohammedan  Arabs  (G47),  and  keeps  mourn- 
ful  silence   over  dreary  ruins  ;  but  his   spirit  marched 


12  SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 

through  the  ages,  and  still  lives  and  acts  as  a  molding 
and  stimulating  power  in  all  the  branches  of  Western 
Christendom. 

His  father,  Patricius,  was  a  member  of  the  city 
Council,  and  a  man  of  kindly  disposition,  but  irritable 
temper  and  dissolute  habits.  He  remained  a  heathen  till 
shortly  before  his  death,  but  did  not,  as  it  appears,  lay 
any  obstniction  to  the  Christian  course  of  his  wife. 

Monnica,*  the  mother  of  Angustin,  shines  among  the 
most  noble  and  pious  women  that  adorn  the  grand  tem- 
ple of  the  Christian  Church.  She  was  born  in  the  year 
^?i,.PZ  -?^^'  ^^  Christian  parents,  probably  at  Tagaste. 
She  had  rare  gifts  of  mind  and  heart,  which  were  de- 
veloped by  an  excellent  Christian  edncation,  and  dedi- 
cated to  the  Saviour.  To  the  violent  passion  of  her 
husband  she  opposed  an  angelic  meekness,  and  when  the 
outljurst  was  over  she  reproached  him  so  tenderly  that 
he  was  always  shamed.  Had  the  rebuke  been  adminis- 
tered sooner  it  would  only  have  fed  the  nnhallowed  fire. 
-^^l^_i^?^J%'''^^  infidelity  she  bore  with  patience  and  for- 
giving love.  Her  highest  aim  was  to  win  him  over  to 
the  Christian  faith— not  so  much  by  words  as  by  a  truly 
humble  and  godly  conduct  and  the  conscientious  dis- 
charge of  her  household  duties.  In  this  she  was  so  suc- 
cessful that,  a  year  before  his  death,  he  enrolled  himself 
among  the  catechumens  and  was  baptized.  To  her  it 
was  the  greatest  pleasure  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures 

*  This  is  the  correct  spelling,  according  to  the  oldest  MSS.  of  the 
writings  of  Augustiu,  and  is  followed  by  Pusev,  in  his  edition  of  the 
Confessions,  by  "Moule,  in  Smith  and  Wace.  Did.  of  Christian  Biogra- 
phy, III.  932,  and  also  by  K.  Braune,  in  Monnika  inid  Augustinus 
(Grinnna,  184r,).  The  usual  spelling  is  Monica,  in  French  Monique. 
It  IS  derived  by  some  from  fi6vog,  single;  by  others  from  ^idvvog  or 
fiavvoc,  Lat.  monile,  a  necklace  {monilia,  jewels). 


augustin's  youth.  13 

and  to  attend  clinrcli  regularly  every  morning  and  even- 
ing, "  not,"  as  Augiistin  says,  "  to  listen  to  vain  fables, 
but  to  the  Lord,  in  the  preaching  of  His  servants,  and  to 
offer  up  to  Him  her  prayers."  She  esteemed  it  a  pre- 
cious privilege  to  lay  on  the  altar  each  day  a  gift  of  love, 
to  bestow  alms  on  the  poor,  and  to  extend  hospitality  to 
strangers,  especially  to  brethren  in  the  faith.  She 
brought  up  her  children  in  the  nurture- and  admonition 
of  the  Lord.  She  bare  Augustin,  as  he  boasts  of  her, 
with  greater  pains  spiritually  than  she  had  brought  him 
forth  naturally  into  the  world.*  For  thirty  years  she 
prayedTToi*  the  conversion  of  her  distinguished  son,  until 
at  last,  a  short  time  before  her  death,  after  manifold 
cares  and  burning  tears,  in  the  midst  of  which  she  never 
either  murmured  against  God  or  lost  hope,  she  found 
her  prayers  answered  beyond  her  expectations.  She  has 
become  a  bright  example  and  rich  comfort  for  mothers, 
and  \vill  act  as  an  inspiration  to  the  end  of  time. 

From  such  parents  sprang  Augustin.  Strong  sensual 
passions  he  inherited  from  his  father,  but  from  his 
mother  those  excellent  gifts  of  mind  and  heart  which, 
though  long  perverted,  were  at  last  reclaimed  by  the 
regenerating  grace  of  God,  and  converted  into  an  incal- 
culable blessing  to  the  Church  of  all  ages.  He  had  a 
l)rother,  by  the  name  of  ISTavigius,  a  widowed  sister, 
who  presided  over  a  society  of  pious  women  till  the  day 
of  her  death,  and  a  number  of  nephews  and  nieces, 

Augustin  says  that  with  his  mother's  milk  his  heart 
sucked  in  the  name  of  the  Saviour,  which  became  so 


*  Covfess.  1.  V.  c.  9  :  "  Kon  enim  satis  elnquor,  quid  erga  me  habebat 
animi,  et  quanto  majare  soUiciiudine  me  pnrturiebat  spiritu,  quam  came 
perpererat."  Likewise  1.  IX.  c.  8  :  "  Qaoe  me  parlurivit,  et  came,  ut 
in  hano  tewpnr<dem,  et  corde,  id  in  ceternam  lucem  nascerer."  Comp.  his 
whole  description  of  Monnica,  ix.  9-12. 


1-i  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

lirmly  lodged  there  that  nothing  which  did  not  Scavor  of 
that  name,  however  learned  and  attractive  it  might  other- 
wise be,  could  ever  fully  charm  him.  He  early  lisped 
out  prayers  to  God,  whose  all-embracing  love  revealed 
itself  to  his  childish  spirit.  These  germs  of  piety  were 
overgrown  by  the  weeds  of  youthful  vice  and  impure 
lusts,  but  never  wholly  smothered.  Even  in  the  midst 
of  his  furthest  wanderings  he  still  heard  the  low,  sad 
echo  of  his  youthful  religious  impressions,  was  attended 
by  the  guardian  genius  of  his  praying  mother,  and  felt 
in  the  depths  of  his  noble  spirit  the  pulse-beat  of  that 
strong  desire  after  God,  to  which,  in  the  opening  of 
his  Confessions,  he  gives  utterance  in  the  incompar- 
able words  :  "  Thou,  O  God,  hast  created  us  for  Thy- 
self, and  our  heart  is  without  rest,  until  it  rests  in 
Thee."  * 

He  was  not  baptized  in  infancy,  but  merely  offered  to 
the  initiation  of  a  catechumen  by  the  sign  of  the  cross 
and  the  salting  with  salt.f  There  was  at  that  time  no 
compulsory  baptism  of  infants  :  it  was  left  to  the  free 
choice  of  the  parents.  Monnica  probably  shared  the 
view  of  Tertullian  that  it  was  safer  to  postpone  baptism 
to  years  of  discretion  than  to  run  the  risk  of  forfeiting 
its  benefit  by  a  relapse. 

Augustin  was  sent  to  school  at  aif  early  ago,  with  the 
hope  on  the  part  of  his  father  that  he  might  become  dis- 
tinguished in   the  world  ;  on  that  of  his   mother,  that 


*  Confess.  I.  1  :  "Fecistl  nos  ad  Te,  d  inquietum  est  cor  nostrum,  donee 
rerpdescat  in  Te."  Dr.  Pusey,  in  his  translation  (based  on  an  older 
one),  obliterates  the  paronomasia— irjf/ia'e^Mm,  reqmescat  :  "  Thou 
madest  us  for  Tliyself,  and  our  heart  is  restless,  until  it  repose  in 
Thee."    Dr.  Sliedd  retains  this  translation. 

t  Confess.  I.  11. 


augustin's  youth.  15 

*'tlie  common  studies  miglit  not  only  prove  innocent, 
bnt  also  in  some  degree  useful  in  leading  him  afterward 
to  God." 

Elementary  Instruction  and  mathematics  were,  how- 
ever, too  dry  for  the  boy  ;  and  he  was,  in  consequence, 
severely  punished  by  his  teachers.  Play  was  his  chief 
delight.  In  order  to  shine  as  the  first  among  his  com- 
panions he  even  cheated  them  ;  and  for  the  purpose  of 
providing  himself  with  playthings,  or  of  gratifying  his 
appetite,  he  went  so  far  as  to  steal  from  the  store-room 
and  the  table  of  his  parents.  At  public  shows  he  pas- 
sionately crowded  himself  into  the  front  ranks  of  tlie 
spectators. 

And  yet  for  all  this  he  had  to  endure  the  reproaches 
of  conscience.  On  one  occasion,  when,  seized  by  a  vio- 
lent cramp  in  the  stomach,  he  believed  his  last  hour  had 
come,  he  earnestly  begged  to  be  baptized.  But  after 
his  mother  had  made  the  necessary  preparations  he  sud- 
denly grew  better,  and  the  baptism,  according  to  a  pre- 
vailing notion  of  the  age,  was  postponed,  lest  this  pre- 
cious means  for  the  washing  away  of  past  sins  might  be 
rendered  vain  by  the  contraction  of  new  guilt,  in  which 
case  no  other  remedy  was  to  be  found.  At  a  later 
period  he  thought  it  w^ould  have  been  far  better  for  him 
had  he  been  early  received  by  baptism  into  the  commu- 
nion of  the  Church,  and  thus  placed  under  her  protecting 
care. 

His  dislike  for  learning  ceased  when  Augustin  passed 
over  from  rudimentary  studies  into  the  grammar  school. 
The  poet  Yergil  charmed  his  fancy  and  filled  him  with 
fresh  enthusiasm.  AVith  the  deepest  interest  he  followed 
-^ncas  in  his  wanderings,  and  shed  tears  over  the  death 
of  Dido,  who  slew  herself  for  love  ;  while  at  the  same  time, 
as  he  tells  us,  he  ought  to  have  mourned  over  his  own 


16  SAINT  AUGUSTIN-. 

deatli  in  estrangement  from  God.*  The  wooden  horse 
full  of  armed  warriors,  the  burning  of  Troy,  and  the 
shade  of  Creiisa  were  continually  before  his  soul.  The 
Grecian  classics  were  not  so  much  to  his  taste,  because 
his  defective  knowledge  of  the  language,  which  he  never 
had  the  patience  to  master,  prevented  the  enjoyment  of 
their  works. 

By  his  gift  of  lively  representation  and  brilliant  orator- 
ical talent  he  made  a  figure  in  the  school,  and  awakened 
the  fondest  hopes  in  the  hearts  of  his  parents.  His 
father  destined  him  to  the  then  highly  respectable  and 
influential  office  of  rhetorician,  or  public  teacher  of 
forensic  eloquence.  For  further  improvement  he  sent 
him  to  the  larger  neighboring  city  of  Madaura,  where 
heathenism  still  held  almost  exclusive  sway.  His  resi- 
dence there  was  probably  injurious  to  him  in  a  moral 
point  of  view. 

In  the  sixteenth  year  of  his  age  he  returned  home  in 
order  to  prepare  himself,  in  as  cheap  a  manner  as  possi- 
ble, for  the  University  of  the  metropolis  of  Northern 
Africa.  But  instead  of  growing  better  he  entered  upon 
the  path  of  folly,  and  plunged  into  the  excesses  of  sensu- 
ality. His  mother  earnestly  exhorted  him  to  lead  a 
chaste  life  ;  but  he  was  ashamed  to  heed  the  exhortation 
of  a  woman.  This  false  shame  drove  him  even  to  pre- 
tend frequently  to  crimes  which  he  had  never  commit- 
ted, so  as  not  to  seem  to  fall  behind  his  comrades.  He 
himself  confesses,  "  I  was  not  able  to  distinguish  the 
brighter  purity  of  love  from  the  darkness  of  lust.     Both 


*  Covfesx.  I.  13  :  "  Quid  enim  mlserius  misero  non  miserante  seipsum, 
et  flente  Bidonis  mortem,  qua;  fiehat  amando  Jilneam  ;  non  flente  autem 
mortem  suam,  qua;  fiehat  non  amando  Te,  Deus  lumen  cordis  mei,  et 
panis  07-is  intus  animce  mece,  et  virtus  marilans  meniem  meam,  et  sinum 
cogitationis  meoif" 


AUQUSTIN  AT  CARTHAGE.  17 

were  mingled  together  in  confusion  ;  youth  in  its  weak- 
ness, hurried  to  the  abyss  of  desire,  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  pool  of  vice." 

Yet,  amid  these  wild  impulses,  it  was  not  well  with 
him.  Thai;  longing  after  God,  so  deeply  rooted  in  his 
soul,  asserted  its  power  again  and  again.  He  became 
more  and  more  discontented  with  himself,  and  after  every 
indulgence  felt  an  inward  pang.  The  guiding  hand  of 
the  Lord  mixed  in  the  cup  of  his  enjoyment  "  the  whole- 
some bitterness  that  leads  us  back  from  destructive  pleas- 
ure, by  which  we  are  estranged  from  God." 


CHAPTER  II. 

AUGUSTIN    AT    CARTHAGE. 

In  his  seventeenth  year,  the  same  in  which  his  father 
died,  he  entered  the  Pligh  School  of  Carthage,  sup- 
ported by  his  mother  and  the  richest  citizen  of  Tagaste, 
Romanianus,  who  was  a  distant  relative.  Carthage  was 
the  Rome  of  Africa,  with  many  marble  palaces,  numer- 
ous schools,  countless  shows,  and  shameless  vices.  Mon- 
nica  did  not  see  her  son  depart  for  the  great  and  volup- 
tuous city  without  fear  and  trembling,  but  she  was  not 
willing  now  to  interrupt  his  career,  and  she  knew  Him 
who  is  stronger  than  all  temptation,  and  listens  to  the 
prayers  of  His  children.  In  Carthage  Augustin  studied 
oratory  and  otlier  sciences,  astrology  even,  and  raised 
himself  to  the  first  rank  by  his  talent.  This  increased 
his  ambition  and  fed  his  pride. 

With  his  morals  he  fared  badly.     He  consorted  with  a 


18  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

class  of  students  who  sought  their  honor  in  deriding 
good  conduct,  and  called  themselves  "  Destroyers."  Al- 
though their  rough  and  vulgar  doings  were  peculiarly 
disagreeable  to  a  nature  so  noble  as  his,  yet  their  society 
must  have  exerted  over  him  a  pernicious  influence.  He 
frequently  visited  also  the  tragic  theatre,  because  it  was 
always,  says  he,  "  filled  with  pictures  of  my  misery,  and 
tinder  for  my  desires." 

In  his  eighteenth  year  he  took  up  with  a  woman,  with 
whom  he  lived  thirteen  years  without  marriage,  and  was 
faithful  to  her.  She  bore  him  a  son,  Adeodatus,  whose 
promising  gifts  gave  his  father  much  joy,  but  he  died  at 
an  early  age.  She  walks  veiled  through  the  Confes- 
sions^ a  memory  without  a  name,  and  disappears  with 
a  sigh  of  repentance  and  a  vow  to  devote  herself  to  a 
pure  and  single  life. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  excesses  of  his 
youth  are  known  to  us  only  from  his  own  honest  Con- 
fessions. His  worst  sin  was  common  in  the  best  heathen 
society,  and  sanctioned  by  the  Roman  law.  It  did  not  in 
the  least  affect  his  respectability  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 
Even  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius,  the  model  saint  and 
philosopher  of  ancient  Rome,  kept  a  concubine  after  the 
death  of  his  wife,  without  feeling  the  least  scruple. 
Tertullian,  Cyprian,  Jerome,  and  other  eminent  fathers 
who  embraced  Christianity  in  adult  years,  were  probably 
no  better  than  Augustin  before  his  conversion,  but  they 
left  only  vague  allusions.  Augustin  never  was  a  profli- 
gate. He  was  strictly  faithful  to  the  one  woman  of  his 
affection,  the  first  from  Africa,  the  second  frotn  Italy.* 
It  is  therefore  an  inexcusable  slander  to  call  him  "the 


*  Confess.  IV.  2  :  "  Tn  illis  annis  unam  haheham,    ,    .   sed  miam  iamcn, 
d  quoque  servans  tori  fidem"     Comp.  VI.  15. 


CICERO'S   HORTENSIUS.  19 

promiscuous  lover  of  the  frail  beauties  of  Carthage." 
It  was  wicked  and  brutal  in  Byron  to  write  that  Saint 
Augustin's  "  fine  Confessions  make  the  reader  envy  his 
transgressions."  The  ^visdom  of  some  parts  of  his  Con- 
fessions may  be  doubted,  but  they  were  made  to  impress 
the  reader  with  his  own  intense  abhorrence  of  sin,  and 
we  must  admire  the  fearless  honesty  and  keen  moral 
sensibility  of  the  man  in  revealing  the  secrets  of  his 
former  life,  which  otherwise  would  never  have  been 
known. 


CHAPTER   III. 

CICEKO'S   HOETENSniS. 

Meanwhile,  beneath  this  rushing  stream  of  external 
activity,  the  soul  of  Augustin  sighed  after  true  wisdom. 
His  ardent  thirst  for  something  ideal  and  enduring  first 
of  all  showed  itself  in  the  study  of  the  Hortensius  of 
Cicero,  which  came  up  regularly  in  the  course  of  his 
education.  This  lost  volume  contained  an  encourage- 
ment to  true  philosoj^hy,  and  gave  the  direction,  in  its 
study,  to  aim  at  truth  only,  and,  above  all,  to  hail  her 
footsteps  with  enthusiasm  and  without  regard  to  the  in- 
terest of  party.  This  roused  the  young  man  to  an  ear- 
nest struggle  after  truth. 

"  This  book,"  says  he,  "  transformed  my  inclinations 
and  turned  my  prayers  to  Thee,  O  God,  and  changed 
my  wishes  and  my  desires.  Every  vain  hope  was  ex- 
tinguished ;  and  I  longed,  with  an  incredible  fervor  of 
spirit,  after  the  immortality  of  wisdom.  I  began  to  raise 
myself  that  1  might  return  to  Thee.     I  studied  this  book 


20  SAINT    AUGUSTIN. 

ac^ain  and  again,  not  for  the  refinement  of  my  language 
nor  for  aid  in  the  art  of  speaking,  but  in  order  that  I 
might  be  j)ersuaded  bj  its  doctrine.  Oh,  how  I  burned, 
my  God — how  I  burned  to  fly  back  from  the  things  of 
earth  to  Thee.  And  I  knew  not  what  Thou  hadst  de- 
signed with  me.  For  with  Thee  is  wisdom,  and  these 
\vri tings  excited  me  toward  love,  toward  wisdom,  toward 
philosophy.  And  this  particularly  delighted  me,  that  I 
was  not  asked  therein  to  love,  to  seek,  to  attain,  and  to 
hold  in  firm  embrace  this  or  that  scliool — but  wisdom 
alone,  as  she  might  reveal  herself.  1  was  charmed  and 
inflamed." 

But  the  volume  contained  one  blemish  :  the  name  of 
Christ  was  not  there.  Such  a  secret  power  did  that 
name,  imprinted  on  his  tender  soul,  exert  over  him, 
even  during  his  wanderings. 

In  this  thirst  after  truth  he  laid  liold  of  the  records  of 
revehation — that  holy  book  to  which  his  mother  clung 
with  such  reverent  devotion.  But  there  was  yet  a  great 
gulf  fixed  between  him  and  the  Bible.  In  order  to  be 
understood  it  requires  an  humble,  childlike  disjDosition. 
To  the  proud  in  spirit  it  is  a  book  with  seven  seals.  The 
natural  man  perceives  not  the  things  that  belong  to  the 
Spirit  of  God  :  they  are  foohslmess  unto  him,  because 
they  are  spiritually  discerned.  Augustin  was  not  yet  ac- 
quainted \vit.h  the  depth  of  his  corruption,  which  the 
Holy  Scriptures  disclosed  to  him  on  every  page.  "  The 
Scriptures,"  he  says,  "  thrive  among  the  childlike  ;  but 
I  refused  to  become  a  child,  and  thought  myself  great  in 
my  own  presumption."  He  desired  not  truth  in  her 
simple  beauty,  but  arrayed  in  a  specious  garb  of  rhetoric, 
to  flatter  his  vanity  ;  he  desired  her  not  as  a  chaste 
virgin,  but  as  a  voluptuous  courtesan. 

Hence  he  now  turned  to  the  sect  of  the  Manichreans, 


AUGUSTIN    AMONG    THE    MANICHJEANS.  ^1 

who  had  the  word  truth  always  on  their  hps,  but  lield 
their  disciples  captive  in  the  bondage  of  error. 


CllAPTEPv  IV. 

AUGUSTIN    AMONG   THE   MANICH^ANS. 

The  Manichaeans,  so  called  from  their  founder,  the 
Persian  Mani,  or  Manichteus  (died  274:),  were  a  sect 
allied  to  the  Gnostics.  They  blended  together  heathen- 
ism and  Christianity  in  a  fantastic  system,  which  they  set 
up  in  opposition  to  Judaism  and  the  Catholic  Church. 
The  groundwork  of  their  doctrine  is  the  Old  Persian 
religion,  into  which  a  few  Christian  elements  are  intro- 
duced in  a  distorted  form.  They  were  dualists  ;  they 
taught,  as  Zoroaster,  an  original  antagonism  between 
God  and  matter  ;  between  the  kingdom  of  light  and  the 
kingdom  of  darkness  ;  between  good  and  evil.  Man 
stands  in  the  middle  between  both  these  kingdoms  ;  he 
has  a  spark  of  light  in  him  which  longs  after  redemp- 
tion, but,  at  the  same  time,  is  possessed  of  a  corrupt 
body  and  a  corrupt  soul,  which  are  to  be  gradually  anni- 
hilated. To  a  certain  degree  they  acknowledged  Christ 
as  a  Saviour,  but  confounded  Him  with  the  sun  ;  for 
they  were  accustomed  to  drag  down  the  spiritual  ideas  of 
the  gospel  into  the  sphere  of  natural  life.  In  the  entire 
economy  of  nature,  which,  along  with  the  perfume  of 
the  flower,  sends  the  miasmatic  breath,  and  causes  the 
gloomy  night  to  succeed  the  clear  day,  they  saw  a  con- 
flict between  the  two  opposite  kingdoms  ;  in  every  plant 
a  crucified  Christ,  an  imprisoned  spirit  of  light,  which 


22  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

worked  itself  up  from  the  dark  bosom  of  tlie  eartli  and 
strove  toward  the  siin.  The  class  of  the  i:)erfect  among 
them  durst  slay  or  wound  no  animal,  pluck  no  flower, 
break  no  stalk  of  grass,  for  fear  of  injuring  the  higher 
spirit  dwelling  in  it.  They  regarded  the  whole  Catholic 
Church  as  contaminated  by  Judaistic  elements.  Mani  is 
the  Paraclete  or  Advocate  promised  by  Christ,  who  is  to 
restore  again  the  true  Church.  They  reproached  the 
orthodox  Christians  for  believing  blindly,  on  mere 
authority,  and  for  not  elevating  themselves  to  the  stand- 
point of  independent  knowledge.  They,  the  Manichfe- 
ans,  thought  themselves,  on  the  contrary,  in  the  posses- 
sion of  perfect  knowledge,  of  truth  in  lier  pure,  unveiled 
form.  The  words  truth,  science,  reason,  never  out  of 
their  mouths,  were  esteemed  as  excellent  baits  for  stran- 
gers. 

These  lofty  pretensions  and  promises  to  unravel  all  the 
riddles  of  existence,  the  longing  after  redemption,  char- 
acteristic of  the  system,  its  inward  sympathy  with  the 
life  of  nature,  the  dazzling  show  of  its  subtle  dialectics 
and  polemics  against  the  doctrines  of  the  church,  and  the 
ascetic  severity  of  its  course  of  life,  explain  the  attractive 
power  which  the  J\Ianicha)an  philosophy  exerted  over 
many  of  the  more  profound  spirits  of  the  age,  and  the 
extensive  propagation  which  it  met  with  even  in  the 
West. 

We  can  readily  imagine  how  Augustin,  taken  up  with 
his  struggles  after  truth,  but  at  the  same  time  full  of  in- 
tellectual pride,  as  he  then  was,  should  be  won  over  by 
its  delusive  charms.  He  enrolled  himself  in  the  class  of 
the  aiiditor^^  or  catechumens.  His  mother  mourned 
over  this  new  aberration,  but  was  consoled  by  a  dream, 
in  which  a  shining  youth  told  lier  that  her  son  should 
stand  just  where  she  stood.     "Wlien  she  informed  her  son 


AUGUSTIN    AMONG    THE   MANICH^ANS.  23 

of  it,  lie  interpreted  tlie  dream  as  implying  tlie  speedy 
conversion  of  his  mother  to  his  side.  "  No,  no,"  an- 
swered she,  "  it  was  not  said  to  me,  where  he  is  there 
shalt  thou  be  also  ;  but,  where  thou  art,  there  shall  he  be 
also. "  Augiistin  confesses  that  this  prompt  reply  made 
a  greater  impression  on  him  than  the  dream  itself.  She 
was  likewise  comforted  by  a  bishop,  who,  at  a  former 
period,  had  been  himself  a  Manichaean.  She  begged 
him  to  convince  her  son  of  his  error.  But  he  thought 
disputation  would  be  of  no  avail.  She  should  only  con- 
tinue to  pray  for  him,  and  gradually,  of  his  own  accord, 
through  study  and  experience,  he  would  come  to  a 
clearer  understanding.  "  As  sure  as  you  live,"  he  add- 
ed, "it  is  not  possible  that  a  son  of  such  tears  should  be 
lost."  Monnica  treasured  up  these  words  as  a  prophetic 
voice  fi'om  heaven. 

For  nine  years,  up  to  the  twenty- eighth  of  his  life, 
Augustin  remained  in  connection  with  these  heretics — 
led  astray,  and  leading  others  astray.  Their  discovery  of 
seeming  contradictions  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Church, 
their  polemics  against  the  Old  Testament,  their  specula- 
tions concerning  the  origin  of  evil,  which  they  traced 
back  to  a  primordial  principle  co-existent  with  God  Him- 
self, spoke  to  his  understanding,  while  their  symbolical 
interpretations  of  the  varied  aspects  of  nature  addressed 
his  lively  imagination. 

And  yet,  for  all  this,  the  deepest  want  of  his  reason 
remained  unsatisfied.  At  the  time  of  the  high  church 
festivals  particularly,  when  all  Christians  flocked  to  the 
services  of  the  altar,  in  order  to  die  with  the  Lord  on 
Good  Friday,  and  rise  again  with  Him  on  Easter  morn- 
ing, he  was  seized  with  a  strong  desire  after  their  com- 
munion. For  this  reason  he  took  no  step  toward  enter- 
ing the  higher  class  of  the  initiated,  or  elect,  among  the 


34  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

Maiilcliffians,  but  devoted  himself  more  zealously  to 
those  studies  which  belonged  to  his  calliBg  as  a  rhetori- 
cian. 


CIIAPTEP.   Y. 


THE    LOSS    OF    A    FKIEND. 


After  the  completion  of  his  course  of  study  he  re- 
turned to  Tagaste,  in  order  to  settle  there  as  a  teacher  of 
rhetoric.  He  was  master  of  every  qualification  for  in- 
spiring his  scholars  with  enthusiasm,  and  many  of  them, 
especially  Alypius,  adhered  to  him  through  life  with  the 
most  heartfelt  gratitude. 

About  this  time  he  lost  a  very  dear  friend,  who,  with 
an  almost  feminine  susceptibility,  had  resigned  himself 
to  the  commanding  power  of  his  creative  intellect,  and 
had  even  followed  him  into  the  mazes  of  Manichaeism. 
lie  was  suddenly  prostrated  by  a  fever.  Baptism  was 
administered  to  him  without  his  knowledge  ;  Augustin, 
who  was  with  him  night  and  day,  made  a  mock  of  it. 
But  his  friend,  when  he  again  became  conscious,  with- 
stood him  witli  an  independence  that  he  had  never  be- 
fore  exhibited.  The  empty  shadow  of  a  Clirist,  the  sun, 
the  moon,  the  air,  and  whatever  else  was  pointed  out  by 
Maniehgeism  to  the  soul  thirsting  after  salvation,  could 
now  yield  him  no  comfort — but  the  simple,  childlike 
iiiith  of  the  Catholic  Churcli  alone.  In  this  faith  he  de- 
parted, when  the  fever  returned  with  renewed  violence. 

The  death  of  this  friend  filled  Augustin  with  inexpres- 
sible anguish.  Xeither  the  splendor  of  light,  nor  the 
peaceful  innocence  of  the  flowers,  nor  the  joys  of  the 


THE    LOSS    OF   A    FEIEND.  25 

banquet,  nor  tlie  pleasures  of  sense,  liad  any  interest  for 
liim  now  ;  even  bis  books,  for  a  long  wbile,  lost  tlieir 
cliarms,  "  Everjtliing  I  looked  u]3on  was  deatb.  My 
fatberland  became  a  torment  to  me — my  fatber's  bouse  a 
scene  of  tbe  deepest  suffering.  Above  all,  my  eyes 
sougbt  after  bim  ;  but  be  was  not  given  back  to  me 
again.  I  bated  everytliing  because  be  was  not  tbere.  I 
bad  become  a  great  enigma  to  myself. ' ' 

He  afterward  saw  bow  wrong  it  was  to  place  sucb  un- 
bounded dependence  on  tbe  creature.  "  Ob,  tbe  folly," 
be  laments,  "  of  not  knowing  bow  to  love  men  as  men  ! 
Ob,  foolisb  man,  to  suffer  wliat  is  buman  beyond  due 
measure,  as  I  tben  did  !"  "  Blessed  is  be,  O  Lord,  wbo 
loves  Tbee,"  are  bis  inimitable  words,  "  and  bis  friend 
in  Tbee,  and  bis  enemy  for  Tby  sake.  lie  alone  loses 
no  dear  ones,  to  wbom  all  are  dear  in  Ilim,  wbo  can 
never  be  lost  to  us.  And  wbo  is  He,  but  our  God,  tbe 
God  wbo  made  beaven  and  cartb,  and  fills  tbem  all  ! 
No  one  loses  Tbee  but  be  wbo  forsakes  Tbee."  * 

And  yet  we  see  in  tins  uncontrollable  anguisb  wbat  a 
deep  fountain  of  love  was  gusbing  in  bis  bosom.  Could 
tliis  love  only  find  its  proper  object,  and  be  purified  by 
tbe  Spirit  of  God,  wbat  a  ricb  ornament  and  source  of 
blessing  must  it  become  to  tbe  Cburcb  and  tbe  world  ! 
At  tbe  same  time  tbis  severe  suffering  reveals  tbe  inter- 
nal weakness  of  tbe  Manicbsean  dogmas  and  of  mere 
buman  wisdom.  Tbeir  consolations  cannot  reacb  into 
tbe  dark  liours  of  trouble  ;  tbeir  promises  are  convicted 


*  Confess.  IV.  9  :  "  Bealus  quiamat  Te,  el  amicum  in  Te,  et  inimicum 
propter  Te.  Solus  enim  nullum  carum  amiltit,  cui  omnes  in  illo  cari  sunt, 
qui  non  amiliiur.  Et  quis  est  isle,  nisi  Deus  nosier,  Deus  qui  fecit  coeluni 
et  terrain,  et  iniplet  ea,  quia  implen.do  ea  fecit  ea  ?  Te  nemo  amittil,  nisi 
qui  dimittitj  et  qui  dimitlit,  quo  it,  aut  quo  fug  it,  nisi  a  Te  placido  ad  Te 
iraium  ? ' ' 


26  SAINT    AUGUSTIISr. 

of  falseliood  at  the  brink  of  tlie  grave.  It  is  true,  in- 
deed, that  this  visitation  to  his  soul  passed  hy  without 
waking  him  up  from  his  sleep  of  sin.  Still,  the  death- 
bed of  his  friend,  which  he  could  not  banish  from  his 
memory,  had  certainly  the  effect  of  undermining  his 
faith  in  the  Manichsean  system. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AUGUSTIN   LEAVES   MANICH^ISM. 

In  consequence  of  this  loss,  which  embittered  his  life 
in  his  native  city,  and  impelled  also  by  an  ambitious  de- 
sire for  a  distinguished  career,  Augustin  went  back  to 
Carthage,  and  opened  there  a  school  of  forensic  elo- 
quence. Amid  new  relationships  and  in  the  society  of 
new  friends  his  wounds  were  gradually  healed,  and  he 
went  forward  in  his  accustomed  path  with  success, 
though  at  times  the  recklessness  of  the  students  gave 
him  great  pain. 

He  appeared  also  as  an  author,  and  published  a  large 
philosophical  work  on  Fitness  and  Beauty.* 

For  some  time  yet  he  adliered  to  Manichieism,  until  at 
hist,  in  his  twenty-ninth  year,  a  crisis  arrived.  By  de- 
grees many  doubts  had  arisen  in  his  mind  concerning  the 
system.  His  confidence  in  the  boasted  sanctity  of  the 
Manichsean  priesthood,  the  class  of  the  elect,  was  shaken 
by  the  rumor  of  secret  vices,  which  held  sway  among 
them,  under  the  hypocritical  mask  of  peculiar,  ascetic 

*  Be  Apia  et  Pulchro. 


AUGUSTIX    LEAVES    MAKICH J::iSM.  37 

virtues.  By  the  thorongli  study  of  pliilosophy  lie  was 
able  to  gain  an  insight  into  the  many  contradictions  and 
untenable  points  of  Manichsean  speculation.  The  notion 
of  evil  as  a  substance  co-eternal  with  God  could  not  sat- 
isfy his  mind  in  its  struggle  after  unity. 

The  Manichfeans  were  unable  to  solve  his  doubts,  and 
instead  of  attempting  it,  promised  to  introduce  him  to 
their  famous  bishop,  Faustus,  who  was  then  regarded  as 
their  oracle.  He  lived  at  Mileve,  a  city  in  the  north- 
western part  of  I^umidia.  Augustin  himself  was  very 
desirous  of  becoming  acquainted  with  him.  This  honor 
was  at  last  granted.  They  met  in  Carthage.  He  discov- 
ered in  him  a  brilliant  orator  and  a  subtle  dialectician, 
but  at  the  same  time  a  man  of  moderate  culture  and 
without  any  depth  or  earnestness  of  spirit.  He  compares 
him  to  a  cup-bearer  who,  with  graceful  politeness,  pre- 
sents a  costly  goblet  without  anything  in  it.  "With 
such  things,"  says  he,  in  allusion  to  his  discourses,  "  my 
ears  are  already  satiated.  They  did  not  appear  better 
because  beautifully  spoken,  nor  true  because  eloquent, 
nor  spiritually  wise  because  the  look  was  expressive  and 
the  discourse  select.  Thou,  my  God,  hast  taught  me, 
in  wonderful  and  hidden  ways,  that  a  thing  should  not 
seem  true  because  portrayed  with  eloquence,  nor  false 
because  the  breath  of  the  lips  is  not  sounded  according 
to  the  rules  of  art  ;  on  tlie  other  hand,  that  a  thing  is 
not  necessarily  true  because  conveyed  in  rude,  nor  false 
because  conveyed  in  brilliant,  language  ;  but  that  wisdom 
and  folly  are  like  wholesome  and  noxious  viands — both 
may  be  contained  in  tasteful  t)r  unadorned  words,  as 
they  in  rough  or  finely- wrought  vessels."  In  the  pri- 
vate conversations  which  he  held  with  Faustus  the  latter 
could  not  answer  questions  of  vital  importance  to  the 
truth  of  the  Manichaean  system,  and  was  obliged  to  re- 


28  SAIJTT  AUGUSTIN. 

sort  to  the  Socratic  confession  of  ignorance.  But  that 
did  not  agree  well  with  the  intellectual  arrogance  of  this 
sect. 

Now,  after  their  boasted  champion  had  so  sadly  disap- 
pointed his  expectations,  Augustin  resolved  on  breaking 
with  the  heresy,  although  he  did  not  yet  formally  re- 
nounce his  place  among  its  adherents. 


CHAPTER  Yll. 

EEEOE  OVEEKULED  FOE  TEUTH. 

Befoee  we  go  on  with  our  church-father  let  us  take 
a  glance  at  the  connection  between  his  wanderings  and 
his  later  activity  in  the  Church.  The  marvellous  wisdom 
of  God  reveals  itself  in  bringing  good  out  of  evil  and 
making  even  the  sins  and  errors  of  His  servants  contrib- 
ute to  their  own  sanctification  and  an  increase  of  their 
usefulness.  "He  overrules  the  wrath  of  men  for  His 
glory."  David's  double  crime  followed  by  his  repent- 
ance, Peter's  denial  wiped  out  by  his  bitter  tears,  PauFs 
persecuting  zeal  turned  into  apostolic  devotion,  have 
been  an  unfailing  source  of  comfort  and  encouragement 
to  Christians  in  their  struggle  with  temptation  and  sin. 
And  yet  by  no  means  does  this  render  wickedness  ex- 
cusable. To  the  question,  "  Shall  we  continue  in  sin 
that  grace  may  abound  ?"  the  Apostle  Paul  answers  with 
liorror,  "God  forbid  !" 

The  wild,  reckless  life  of  Augustin  prepared  him  to 
look  afterward,  in  the  light  of  grace,  far  down  into  the 
abyss  of  sin — into  the  thorough  corruption  and  ingrati- 


ERROR  OVERRULED  FOR  TRUTH.  29 

tude  of  the  human  heart.  The  bare  thouglit  of  it  must 
have  deeply  troubled  him,  but  the  humility  that  can  say 
with  Paul,  "  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners,"  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  pearls  in  the  crown  of  the  Christian  char- 
acter, while  spiritual  pride  and  self-ri<i:hteousness  gnaw 
like  worms  at  the  root  of  piety.  There  is  no  church- 
father  who,  in  regard  to  deep,  unfeigned  humility,  bears 
so  much  resemblance,  or  stands  so  near  to  the  great 
apostle  of  the  Gentiles  as  Augustin.  He  manifests  iu 
all  his  writings  a  noble  renunciation  of  self  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Most  Holy,  and  his  spirit  goes  forth  in 
tliankfulness  to  the  superabounding  grace  which,  in  spite 
of  his  unworthiness,  had  drawn  him  up  out  of  the 
depths  of  corruption  and  overwhelmed  him  with  mercy. 
By  his  own  painful  experience  he  was  also  fitted  to 
develop  the  doctrine  of  sin,  with  such  rare  penetration 
and  subtlety,  to  refute  the  superficial  theories  of  Pelagius, 
and  thus  to  render  an  invaluable  service  to  theology  and 
the  Church.  Further,  his  theoretical  aberration  into 
Manichaeism  fitted  him  to  overthrow  this  false  and  dan- 
gerous system,  and  to  prove,  by  a  striking  example,  how 
fruitless  the  search  after  truth  must  be  outside  of  the 
simple,  humble  faith  in  Christ.  Thus  also  was  St.  Paul, 
by  his  learned  Pharisaic  education,  better  qualified  than 
any  other  apostle  for  contending  successfully  against  the 
false  exegesis  and  legal  righteousness  of  his  Judaistic 
opponents. 


30  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

AUGUSTIN    A    SCEPTIC   IN    KOME. 

Aftee  Augustin  had  lost  faith  in  Manichseism  he 
found  himself  in  the  same  situation  as  he  was  ten  years 
before.  There  was  the  same  longing  after  truth,  but 
linked  now  with  a  feeling  of  desolation,  a  bitter  sense  of 
deception,  and  a  large  measure  of  scepticism.  He  was 
no  longer  at  ease  in  Carthage.  He  hankered  after  new 
associations,  new  scenes,  new  fountains  out  of  which  to 
drink  the  good  so  ardently  desired. 

This  disposition  of  mind,  in  connection  with  a  dislike 
for  tlie  rudeness  of  the  Carthaginian  students  and  the 
exactions  of  friends,  made  him  resolve  on  a  journey  to 
Rome,  where  he  ventured  to  hope  for  a  yet  ignore  brill- 
iant and  profitable  career  as  a  rhetorician.  '^  Thus  he 
drew  niglier  to  the  place  where  his  inward  change  was  to 
be  decided. 

He  endeavored  to  conceal  his  resolution  from  his 
mother,  who  in  the  mean  time  had  joined  him  at  Car- 
thage. But  she  found  out  something  about  it,  and 
wished  eitlier  to  prevent  him  from  going,  or  to  go  with 
him. 

Augustiu  would  listen  to  neither  proposal,  and  resort: 
ed  to  a  trick  to  carry  out  his  plan.  One  evening,  in  the 
year  383,  he  went  down  to  the  sea-shore,  in  order  to 
take  ship,  near  the  place  where  two  chapels  had  been 
dedicated  to  the  memory  of  the  great  church-father  and 
martyr,  St.  Cyprian.  His  mother  suspected  his  design, 
and  followed  him.  He  pretended  that  he  merely  wished 
to  visit  a  friend  on  board,  and  remain  with  him  until  his 
departure.     As  she  was  not  satisfied  with  this  explana- 


AUGUSTIN   A   SCEPTIC   IN"   ROME.  31 

tion,  and  unwilling  to  tarn  back  alone,  be  insisted  on  lier 
spending  at  least  tbat  one  niglit  in  tlie  cbiireb  of  tbe 
martyr,  and  tben  be  would  come  for  ber. 

"Wbile  sbe  was  tbere  in  tears,  praying  and  wrestling 
witb  God  to  prevent  bis  voyage,  Angustin  sailed  for  tlie 
coasts  of  Ital}^,  and  bis  deceived  motber  found  berself 
tbe  next  morning  alone  on  tbe  sbore  of  tbe  sea.  Sbe 
bad  learned,  bowever,  tbe  beavenly  art  of  forgiving,  and 
believing  also,  wbere  sbe  could  not  see.  In  quiet  resig- 
nation sbe  returned  to  tbe  city,  and  continued  to  pray  for 
tbe  salvation  of  ber  son,  waiting  tbe  time  wben  tbe  band 
of  Supreme  Wisdom  would  solve  tbe  dark  riddle. 
Tbougb  meaning  well,  sbe  tbis  time  erred  in  ber  prayer, 
for  tbe  journey  of  Augustin  was  tbe  means  of  bis  salva- 
tion. Tbe  denial  of  the  prayer  was,  in  fact,  tbe  answer- 
ing of  it.  Instead  of  tbe  form,  God  granted  ratber  tbe 
substance  of  ber  petition  in  tbe  conversion  of  ber  son. 
"  Tberefore,"  says  be — "  therefore  badst  Tbou,  O  God, 
regard  to  tbe  aim  and  essence  of  ber  desires,  and  didst 
not  do  what  sbe  then  prayed  for,  tbat  Tbou  migbtest  do 
for  me  wbat  sbe  continually  implored. " 

After  a  prosperous  voyage  across  tbe  Mediterranean 
Auo'ustin  found  lode-ino;  in  Rome  witb  a  Manicbsean 
bost,  of  tbe  class  of  tbe  auditors,  and  mingled  in  tbe  so- 
ciety of  tbe  elect.  He  was  soon  attacked,  in  tbe  bouse 
of  tbis  heretic,  by  a  disease  brought  on  and  aggravated 
by  tbe  agonies  of  bis  soul,  dissatisfaction  with  his  course 
of  life,  homesickness,  and  remorse  for  the  heartless 
deception  practised  on  his  mother.  Tbe  fever  rose  so 
high  tbat  signs  of  approaching  dissolution  bad  already 
appeared,  and  yet  Providence  had  reserved  him  for  a 
long  and  active  life.  "  Tbou,  O  God,  didst  permit  me 
to  recover  from  tbat  disease,  and  didst  make  the  son  of 
Thy  handmaid  whole,  first  in  body,  that  he  might  be- 


32  SAItiTT   AUGUSTIN". 

come  one  on  whom  Thou  coiildst  bestow  a  better  and 
more  secure  restoration." 

Again  restored  to  health,  he  began  to  counsel  his  com- 
panions against  Manichseism,  to  which  before  he  had  so 
zealously  labored  to  win  over  adherents.  And  yet  he 
could  not  lead  them  to  the  truth.  His  dislike  to  the 
Church  had  rather  increased.  The  doctrine  of  the  in- 
carnation of  the  Son  of  God  had  become  particularly  of- 
fensiv^e  to  him,  as  it  was  to  all  Gnostics  and  Manichfeans. 
He  despaired  of  finding  truth  in  the  Church.  Yet 
scepticism  could  not  satisfy  him,  and  so  he  was  tossed 
wildly  between  two  waters,  that  would  not  flow  peace- 
fully together.  "  The  more  earnestly  and  perse veringly 
I  reflected  on  the  activity,  the  acuteness,  and  the  depths 
of  the  human  soul,  the  more  1  was  led  to  believe  that 
truth  could  not  be  a  thing  inaccessible  to  man,  and  came 
thus  to  the  conclusion  that  the  right  path  to  its  attain- 
ment had  not  hitherto  been  discovered,  and  that  this  path 
must  be  marked  out  by  divine  authority.  But  now  the 
question  arose  what  this  divine  authority  might  be,  since 
among  so  many  conflicting  sects  each  professed  to  teach 
in  its  name.  A  forest  full  of  mazes  stood  again  before 
my  eyes,  in  which  1  was  to  wander  about,  and  to  be 
compelled  to  tread,  which  rendered  me  fearful." 

In  this  imsettled  state  of  mind  he  felt  himself  draAvn 
toward  the  doctrines  of  tlie  New  Academy.*  This  sys- 
tem, whose  representatives  were  Arcesilaus  and  Car- 
neades,  denied,  in  most  decided  opposition  to  Stoicism, 
the  possibility  of  an  infallible  knowledge  of  any  object  ; 
it  could  only  arrive  at  a  subjective  probability,  not  truth. 

*  Confess.  V.  10  :  "  Etenim  suhorla  est  ellam  mild  cogilatio,  pruden- 
tiores  cceteris  fuisse  illos  philosophos,  quos  Academicos  appellant,  quod 
de  omnibus  dubitandum  esse  censuerant,  nee  aliquid  vcri  ab  hcrmine  com- 
prehendi  posss  decreverant." 


AUGUSTIN   IN   MILAIST — ST.    AMBROSE.  33 

But  our  cliurcli-fatlier  could  not  rest  content  with  a 
philosophy  so  sceptical.  It  onlj  served  to  give  liira  a 
deeper  sense  of  his  emptiness,  and  thus,  in  a  negative 
manner,  to  pave  the  way  for  something  better.  A  change 
in  his  external  circumstances  soon  occurred  which  has- 
tened the  great  crisis  of  his  life. 

After  he  had  been  in  Rome  not  quite  a  year  the  pre- 
fect Symmachus,  the  eloquent  advocate  of  declining 
heathenism,  was  requested  to  send  an  able  teacher  of 
rhetoric  to  Milan.  The  choice  fell  on  Augustin.  The 
recommendation  of  Manichasan  patrons,  and  still  more 
his  trial-speech,  obtained  for  him  the  honorable  and 
lucrative  post.  He  forsook  Rome  the  more  willingly 
because  the  manners  of  the  students  did  not  please  him. 
They  were  accustomed  to  leave  one  teacher  in  the  midst 
of  his  course,  without  paying  their  dues,  and  go  to  an- 
other. 

With  this  removal  to  Milan  we  approach  the  great 
crisis  in  the  life  of  Augustin,  when  he  was  freed  forever 
from  the  fetters  of  Manichseism  and  scepticism,  and  be- 
came a  glorious  light  in  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AUGUSTIN    IN   MILAN — ST.  AMBROSE. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  38i  Augustin,  accompanied 
by  his  old  friend  Alypius,  journeyed  to  Milan,  the  sec- 
ond capital  of  Italy  and  frequent  residence  of  the  Roman 
Emperor. 

The  episcopal  chair  at  that  jolace  was  then  filled  by  one 


34  SAINT  AUGUSTIN". 

of  the  most  venerable  of  the  Latin  fathers,  one  who  not 
only  earned  enduring  honors  in  the  sphere  of  theology, 
but  also  in  that  of  sacred  poetry  and  sacred  music,  and 
distinguished  himself  as  an  ecclesiastical  prince  by  the 
energetic  and  M'ise  management  of  his  diocese  and  his 
bold  defence  of  the  interests  of  the  Church,  even  against 
the  Emperor  himself. 

Ambrose  was  born  at  Treves,  in  the  year  34:0,  of  a 
very  ancient  and  ilhistrious  family.  His  father  was  gov- 
ernor of  Gaul,  one  of  the  three  great  dioceses  of  the 
Western  Roman  Empire.  When  yet  a  little  boy,  as  he 
lay  sleeping  in  the  cradle  with  his  mouth  open,  a  swarm 
of  bees  came  buzzing  around,  and  flew  in  and  out  of  his 
mouth,  without  doing  him  any  harm.  The  father,  as- 
tonislied  at  the  unexpected  vanishing  of  the  danger, 
cried  out  in  a  prophetic  mood  :  *'  Truly,  this  child,  if  he 
lives,  will  turn  out  something  great  !"  A  similar  story 
is  told  of  Plato.  After  the  early  death  of  the  prefect 
his  pious  widow  moved  to  Eome  with  her  three  children, 
and  gave  them  a  careful  education. 

Ambrose  was  marked  out  for  a  brilliant  worldly  career 
by  man,  but  not  by  God.  After  the  completion  of  his 
studies  he  made  his  appearance  as  an  attorney,  and  ac- 
quitted himself  so  well  by  his  eloquent  discourses  that 
Probus,  the  governor  of  Italy,  appointed  him  his  coun- 
sellor. Soon  after  he  conveyed  to  him  the  prefecture  or 
vicercgency  of  the  provinces  of  Liguria  and  Jj^milia,  in 
Upper  Italy,  with  the  remarkable  words,  afterward  in- 
terpreted as  an  involuntary  prophecy  :  "  Go,  and  act, 
not  as  judge,  but  as  bishop."  Ambrose  administered 
his  office  with  dignity,  justice,  and  clemency,  and  won 
for  himself  universal  esteem. 

The  Church  of  IMilan  was  then  involved  in  a  battle 
between  Arianisra,  which  denied  the  divinity  of  Christ, 


AUGUSTIN   IN"   MILAN — ST.    AMBROSE.  35 

and  Nicene  orthodoxy,  which  maintained  the  essential 
eqnahty  of  the  Son  with  the  Father.  Augentius,  an 
Arian,  had  succeeded  in  driving  into  exile  the  CathoHc 
bishop  Dionysius,  and  usurping  tlie  episcopal  chair.  But 
he  died  in  the  year  STJ:, 

At  the  election  of  a  new  bishop  bloody  scenes  were 
apprehended.  Ambrose  thought  it  his  duty  as  governor 
to  go  into  the  church  and  silence  the  uproar  of  the  par- 
ties. His  speech  to  the  assembled  multitude  was  sud- 
denly interrupted  by  the  cry  of  a  child — "  Ambrose,  be 
bishop  !"  As  swift  as  lightning  the  voice  of  the  child 
became  the  voice  of  the  people,  who  with  one  accord 
would  have  him  and  no  other  for  their  chief  shepherd. 

Ambrose  was  confounded.  He  was  then  still  in  the 
class  of  catechumens,  and  hence  not  baptized,  and  had, 
moreover,  so  high  an  opinion  of  the  dignity  and  respon- 
sibility of  the  episcopal  office  that  he  deemed  himself 
altogether  unworthy  of  it  and  unfit  for  it.  He  resorted 
to  flight,  cunning,  and  the  strangest  devices  to  evade  the 
call.  But  it  availed  nothing ;  and  when  now  also  the 
imperial  confirmation  of  the  choice  arrived,  he  submitted 
to  the  will  of  God,  which  addressed  him  so  powerfully 
through  these  circumstances.  After  being  baptized  by 
an  orthodox  bishop,  and  having  run  through  the  different 
clerical  stages,  he  received  episcopal  consecration  on  the 
eighth  day. 

His  friend  Basil,  of  C^esarea,  was  highly  rejoiced  at 
the  result.  "  We  praise  God,"  so  he  wrote,  "  that  in 
all  ages  He  chooses  such  as  are  pleasing  to  Him.  He 
once  chose  a  shepherd  and  set  him  up  as  ruler  over  His 
people.  Moses,  as  he  tended  the  goats,  was  tilled  with 
the  Spirit  of  God,  and  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  prophet. 
But  in  our  days  He  sent  out  of  the  royal  city,  the  metrop- 
olis of  the  world,  a  man  of  lofty  spirit,  distinguished  by 


36  SAINT   AUGUSTIN, 

noble  birtli  and  the  splendor  of  riches  and  by  an  elo- 
quence, at  which  the  world  wonders  ;  one  who  renounces 
all  these  earthly  glories,  and  esteems  them  but  loss  that  he 
may  win  Christ,  and  accepts,  on  behalf  of  the  Church, 
the  helm  of  a  great  ship  made  famous  by  his  faith.  So 
be  of  good  cheer,  O  man  of  God  !" 

From  this  time  forward  until  the  day  of  his  death, 
which  occurred  on  Good  Friday  of  the  year  307,  Am- 
brose acted  the  part  of  a  genuine  l)ishop  :  he  was  the 
shepherd  of  the  congregation,  the  defender  of  the  op- 
pressed, the  watchman  of  the  Church,  the  teacher  of  the 
people,  the  adviser  and  reprover  of  kings.  He  began  by 
distributing  his  lands,  his  gold,  and  his  silver  among  the 
poor.  His  life  was  exceedingly  severe  and  simple.  He 
took  no  dinner,  except  on  Saturdays,  Sundays,  and  the 
festivals  of  celebrated  martyrs.  Invitations  to  banquets 
he  declined,  except  when  his  office  required  his  presence, 
and  then  he  set  an  example  of  temperance.  The  day 
was  devoted  to  the  duties  of  his  calling,  the  most  of  the 
niglit  to  prayer,  meditation  on  divine  things,  the  study 
of  the  Bible  and  the  Greek  fathers,  and  the  writing  of 
theological  works.  He  preached  every  Sunday,  and  in 
cases  of  necessity  during  the  week,  sometimes  twice  a 
day.  To  his  catechumens  he  attended  with  especial  care, 
but  exerted  an  influence  on  a  wider  circle  by  means  of 
his  writings,  in  which  old  Eoman  vigor,  dignity,  and 
sententiousness  were  united  with  a  deep  and  ardent  prac- 
tical Christianity.  He  was  easy  of  access  to  all — to  the 
lowest  as  well  as  the  highest.  His  revenues  were  given 
to  the  needy,  whom  he  called,  on  this  account,  his  stew- 
ards and  treasurers.  With  dauntless  heart  he  battled 
against  the  Arian  heresy,  and,  as  the  Athanasius  of  the 
"West,  helped  Nicene  orthodoxy  to  its  triumph  in  Upper 
Italy. 


AUGUSTIN   IN   MILAN — ST.    AMBROSE.  3? 

Sucli  "vras  Ambrose.  If  any  one  was  Utted  for  win- 
ning over  to  the  Church  the  highly-gifted  stranger  who 
came  into  his  neighborhood,  it  was  he.  Augustin 
visited  the  bishop,  not  as  a  Cln-istian,  but  as  a  celebrated 
and  eminent  man.  He  was  received  by  him  with  pater- 
nal kindness,  and  at  once  felt  himself  drawn  toward  him 
in  love.  "  Unconsciously  was  I  led  to  him,  my  God,  by 
Thee,  in  order  to  be  consciously  led  by  him  to  Thee." 
He  also  frequently  attended  his  preaching,  not  that  he 
might  be  converted  by  him,  and  obtain  food  for  his  soul, 
but  that  he  might  listen  to  a  beautiful  and  eloquent  ser- 
mon. The  personal  character  and  renown  of  Ambrose 
attracted  him.  The  influence  of  curiosity  was  predomi- 
nant ;  and  yet  it  could  not  but  hapj)en  that  the  contents 
of  the  discourses  also  should  soon  make  an  impression 
on  him,  even  against  his  will. 

"  1  began  to  love  him,"  says  he,  "  not,  indeed,  at  first 
as  a  teacher  of  the  truth,  which  I  despaired  of  finding  in 
Thy  Church,  but  as  a  man  worthy  of  my  love.  I  often 
listened  to  his  public  discourses,  I  confess,  not  with  a 
pure  motive,  but  only  to  prove  if  his  eloquence  was  equal 
to  his  fame.  I  weighed  his  words  carefully,  while  I  had 
no  interest  in  their  meaning,  or  despised  it.  I  wos  de- 
lighted with  the  grace  of  his  language,  Mdiich  was  more 
learned,  more  full  of  intrinsic  value,  but  in  delivery  less 
brilliant  and  flattering,  than  that  of  Faustus,  the  Mani- 
chssan.  In  regard  to  the  contents,  there  was  no  com- 
parison between  them  ;  for  while  the  latter  conducted 
into  Manichsean  errors,  the  former  taught  salvation  in 
the  surest  way.  From  sinners,  like  I  was  then,  salvation 
is  indeed  far  off  ;  yet  was  I  gradually  and  unconsciously 
drawing  near  to  it.  For  although  it  was  not  my  wish  to 
learn  tohat  he  said,  but  only  to  hear  how  he  said  it  (this 
vain  interest  was  left  me,  who  despaired  of  the  truth), 


38  SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 

still,  along  with  the  words,  which  1  loved,  there  stole 
also  into  my  spirit  the  substance,  which  I  had  no  care 
for,  because  I  could  not  separate  the  two.  And  while  I 
opened  my  heart  to  receive  the  eloquence  which  he  ut- 
tered, the  truth  also  which  he  spake  found  entrance, 
though  by  slow  degrees."* 

By  this  preaching  the  Old  Testament  was  filled  with 
new  light  to  Augustin.  He  had  imbibed  a  prejudice 
against  it  from  the  Manichseans.  He  regarded  it  as  little 
else  than  a  letter  that  kills.  Ambrose  unfolded  its  life- 
giving  spirit  by  means  of  allegorical  interpretation,  which 
was  then  in  vogue  among  the  Fathers,  especially  those 
of  the  Alexandrian  school.  Its  aim  was,  above  all,  to 
spiritualize  the  historical  parts  of  the  Bible,  and  to  resolve 
the  external  husk  into  universal  ideas.  Thus  gross  vio- 
lence was  often  done  to  the  text,  and  things  were  dragged 
into  the  Bible,  which,  to  an  unbiassed  mind,  were  not 
contained  there,  at  least  not  in  the  exact  place  indicated. 
And  yet  this  mode  of  interpretation  was  born  of  the  spirit 
of  faith  and  reverence,  which  bowed  to  the  "Word  of  God 
as  to  a  source  of  the  most  profound  truths,  and,  so  far, 
was  instructive  and  edifying.  To  Augustin,  who  himself 
used  it  freely  in  his  writings,  often  to  capriciousness,  al- 
though he  afterward  inclined  rather  to  a  cautious,  gram- 
matical, and  historical  apprehension  of  the  Scripture,  it 
was  then  very  acceptable,  and  had  the  good  effect  of 
weaning  him  still  further  from  Manichcsism.  He  soon 
threw  it  aside  altogether.  But  even  the  Platonic  phil- 
osophers, whom  he  preferred  to  it,  he  M^ould  not  blindly 
trust,  because  "the  saving  name  of  Christ  was  wanting  in 
them,"  from  which,  according  to  that  ineffaceable  im- 
pression of  his  pious  childhood,  he  could  never  separate 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
*  Confess.  V.  13,  14. 


AUGUSTIN  A  CATECHUMEN  IN  THE  CATHOLIC  CHUKCII.      31) 

CHAPTER  X. 

AUGUSTIN    A    CATECHUMEN    IN    THE    CATHOLIC    CHURCH. 

We  would  suppose  that  he  was  now  ready  to  cast  him- 
self into  the  arms  of  the  Church,  which  approached  him 
by  a  representative  so  worthy  and  so  highly  gifted.  But 
he  had  not  yet  come  so  far.  Yarious  difficulties  stood  in 
the  way.  To  think  of  God  as  a  purely  spiritual  sub- 
stance gave  him  peculiar  trouble.  In  this  lie  was  yet 
under  the  influence  of  Manichceism,  which  clothed  the 
spiritual  idea  of  God  in  the  garb  of  sense. 

Nevertheless,  he  took  a  considerable  step  in  advance. 
He  enrolled  himself  in  the  class  of  the  catechumens,  to 
which  he  had  already  belonged  when  a  boy,  and  resolved 
to  remain  there  until  he  could  arrive  at  a  decision  in  his 
own  soul.*  He  says  of  his  condition  at  this  time,  that 
he  had  come  so  far  already  that  any  capable  teacher 
would  have  found  in  him  a  most  devoted  and  teachable 
scholar. 

Thus  did  Augustin  resign  himself  to  the  maternal  care 
of  the  communion  in  which  he  had  received  his  early, 
never-forgotten  religious  impressions.  It  could  not  hap- 
pen otherwise  than,  after  an  honest  search,  he  should  at 
last  discover  in  her  the  supernatural  glory,  which,  to  the 
offence  of  the  carnal  understanding,  was  concealed  under 
the  form  of  a  servant.  A  man  possessed  of  his  ardent 
longing  after  God,  his  tormenting  thirst  for  truth  and 
peace  of   mind,  could   obtain  rest   only   in  the  asylum 


*  Confess.  V.  14  :  "  Statui  ergo  tamdiu  esse  calechnmenus  in  calholica 
eccksia,  mild  a  parentibus  commendata,  donee  aliquid  cerll  eluceret,  quo 
cursiim  dirigerem. ' ' 


40 


SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 


founded  by  God  Himself,  and  see  there  all  Lis  desires 
fulfilled  bejond  his  highest  hopes. 

The  Church  had  then  emerged  from  the  bloody  field 
of  those  witnesses  who  had  joyfully  offered  up  their  litres 
to  show  their  gratitude  and  fidelity  to  the  Lord  who  had 
died  for  them.     Their  heroic  courage,  which  overcame 
the  world  ;  their  love,  which  was  stronger  than  death  • 
their  patience,  which  endured  cruel  tortures  without  a 
miirmur,  as  lambs  led  to  the  slaughter ;  and  their  hoi^e 
which  burst  out  in  songs  of  triumph  at  the  stake  and  on 
the  cross,  were  yet  fresh  in  her  memory.     Everywhere 
altars  and  chapels  were  erected  to  perpetuate  their  vir- 
tues     From  a  feeling  of  thankfulness  for  the  victory   so 
dearly  purchased  by  tlieir  death,  and  in  tlie  consciousness 
ot  an  uninterrupted  communion  with  the  glorified  war- 
riors their  heavenly  birthdays  were  celebrated.*     While 
heathenism   in  the  pride  of  its  power,  its  literature,  and 
Its  art,  was  falling  into  decay,  the  youthful  Church,  sure 
of  her  promise  of  eternal  duration,  pressed  triumphantly 
forward  into  a  new  era,  to  take  possession  of  the  wild 
hordes  of  the  invading  nations  who  destroyed  the  Roman 
Jimpire   and  communicate  to  them,  along  with  faith  in 
he   Eedeemer    civihzation,    morality,    and   the   higher 
b  essmgs  of  life.     The  most  noble  and  profound  spirits 
sought  refuge  m  her  communion,  in  which  alone  they 
could  find  rest  for  their  souls  and  quench  their  thirst 

fot  nt  ?  .  ^  "i  '"""^  "^^^^^^^^^  ^^-  Vnnees  and 
potentates  of  earth,  and  reminded  them  of  righteousness 

!ffor dll'T'^f  •  ^^'^"^'  ^'^""^  ^"^  ^^^P^tic  period  she 
affo  ded  she!  er  to  the  oppressed,  was  a  kind  and  loving 
mother  to  the  poor,  the  widow,  and  the  orphan,  and 
opened^er  treasures  to  all  who  needed  help.     They  who 

*  So  were  the  days  of  their  death  called. 


AUGUSTIN  A  CATECHUMEN  IN  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.       41 

were  weary  of  life  found  in  the  peaceful  cells  of  her 
monasteries,  in  communion  with  pilgrims  of  like  spirit, 
an  undisturbed  retreat,  where  thej  could  give  themselves 
wholly  up  to  meditation  on  divine  things.  Thus  she 
cared  for  all  classes,  and  brought  consolation  and  comfort 
into  every  sphere  of  life.  She  zealously  persevered  in 
preaching  and  exhorting,  in  the  education  of  youth  for  a 
better  world,  in  praj^er  and  in  intercession  for  the  bit- 
terest enemies,  and  in  ascriptions  of  glory  to  the  Holy 
Trinity. 

Iler  devotion  concentrated  itself  on  the  festivals, 
recurring  yearly  in  honor  of  the  great  facts  of  the  Gos- 
pel, especially  on  Easter  and  Whitsuntide,  when  multi- 
tudes of  catechumens,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  clad  in 
white  garments,  the  symbol  of  purity,  were  received  into 
the  ranks  of  Christ's  warriors,  amid  fervent  prayers  and 
animating  hynms  of  praise.  The  prince  bowed  with  the 
peasant  in  baptism  before  the  common  Lord  ;  the  famous 
scholar  sat  like  a  child  among  the  catechumens  ;  and 
blooming  virgins,  "those  lilies  of  Christ,"  as  Ambrose 
calls  them,  made  their  vow  before  the  altar  to  renounce 
the  world  and  live  for  the  heavenly  bridegroom.  The 
activity  of  Ambrose  was  in  this  respect  attended  by  the 
richest  results.  He  would  frequently,  on  the  solemn 
night  before  Easter,  have  as  many  incorporated  into  the 
communion  of  the  Church  by  baptism  as  five  other  bish- 
ops together. 

The  Church  of  that  time  M'as  still  an  undivided  unity, 
without  excluding,  however,  great  diversity  of  gifts  and 
powers.  And  this  enabled  her  to  overcome  so  victo- 
riously heresies,  schisms,  persecutions,  and  the  collected 
might  of  heathenism  itself.  One  body  and  one  spirit, 
one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism,  one  God  and  Father 
of  all—this  declaration  of  the  apostle  was  more  applicable 


42  SAIXT    AUGL'STIX. 

to  the  first  centuries  of  the  Church  tlian  to  later  periods. 
The  dweller  on  the  Rhine  found  on  the  borders  of  the 
African  desert,  and  the  Syrian  on  the  shores  of  the 
Rhone,  the  same  confession  of  faith,  the  same  sanctify- 
ing power,  and  the  same  ritual  of  worship.  The  Chris- 
tian of  tlie  fourth  century  felt  himself  in  living  commun- 
ion with  all  the  mighty  dead,  who  had  long  before  de- 
parted in  the  service  of  the  same  Lord.  That  age  had  no 
idea  of  an  interruption  in  the  history  of  God's  kingdom, 
a  sinking  away  of  the  life-stream  of  Christ.  From  the 
heart  of  God  and  His  Son  it  has  rolled  down,  from  the 
days  of  the  apostles,  through  the  veins  of  the  Church 
Catholic,  amid  certain  infallible  signs,  in  one  unbroken 
current  to  the  present,  in  order  gradually  to  fertilize  the 
whole  round  of  earth,  and  empty  itself  into  the  ocean  of 
eternity. 

And  yet  we  have  just  as  little  reason  to  think  the 
Church  at  that  time  free  from  faults  and  imperfections 
as  at  any  other  period.  Some  dream,  indeed,  of  a 
golden  age  of  spotless  purity.  But  such  an  age  has 
never  been,  and  will  only  first  appear  after  the  general 
resurrection.  Even  the  Aj^ostolic  Church  was,  in  regard 
to  its  membership,  by  no  means  absolutely  pure  and 
holy  ;  for  we  need  only  read  attentively  and  with  un- 
biassed mind  any  Epistle  of  the  New  Testament  or  the 
letters  to  the  seven  churches  in  the  Apocalypse,  in  order 
to  be  convinced  that  they  collectively  reproved  the  con- 
gregations to  which  they  were  sent,  for  various  faults, 
excrescences,  and  perversions,  and  warned  them  of 
manifold  errors,  dangers,  and  temptations.  When, 
moreover,  through  the  conversion  of  Constantine,  the 
great  mass  of  the  heathen  world  crowded  into  the 
Church,  they  dragged  along  witli  thciu  also  a  vast 
amount  of  corruption.     A  very  sad  and  dreary  jjicture 


AUGUSTIN  A  CATECHUMEN"  IN  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.      43 

of  the  Christianity  of  the  Niceiie  period  can  be  drawn 
from  the  writings  of  the  fathers  of  the  fourth  century 
(Gregory  Nazianzen,  for  example),  so  that  the  modern 
Church  in  comparison  appears  in  many  respects  hke  a 
great  improvement.  The  march  of  Christianity  is 
steadily  onward. 

In  spite  of  all  these  defects  there  were  yet  remedies 
and  salt  enough  to  preserve  the  body  from  decay.  The 
militant  Church,  in  her  continuous  conflict  with  a  sinful 
world,  must  ever  authenticate  and  develop  the  power  of 
genuine  sanctity,  and  this  she  did  during  the  Nicene 
period.  We  cannot  mistake  the  agency  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  who,  amid  the  stormy  and  passionate  battles  with 
Arianism  and  semi-Arianism,  at  last  helped  the  Nicene 
faith  to  victory.  And  we  cannot  refuse  genuine  admira- 
tion to  those  great  heroes  of  the  fourth  century^  an 
Athanasius,  a  Basil,  a  Gregory  of  Nyssa,  a  Gregory  of 
J^azianzum,  a  Chrysostora,  an  Ambrose,  a  Jerome,  who 
were  distinguished  as  much  by  earnestness  and  dignity  of 
character  and  depth  and  vigor  of  piety  as  by  their  emi- 
nent learning  and  culture,  and  who  are,  even  to  this  day, 
gratefully  honored  by  the  Greek,  the  Roman,  and  the 
Protestant  communions  as  true  chxirGh-J'afhers.  Not- 
withstanding all  the  corruption  in  her  bosom,  the  Cath- 
olic Church  of  that  age  was  still  immeasurably  elevated 
above  heathenism,  sinking  into  hopeless  ruin,  and  the 
conceited  and  arrogant  schools  of  the  Gnostics  and  Man- 
ichf^ans  ;  for  she,  and  she  alone,  was  the  bearer  of  the 
divine-human  life-powers  of  the  Christian  religion,  and 
the  hope  of  the  world. 


44  SAINT  AUGUSTIN". 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

ARRIVAL    OF   MONNICA. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  Church  wlien  Augustin 
entered  the  class  of  catechumens  and  listened  attentively 
to  her  doctrines.  His  good  genius,  Monnica,  soon  came 
to  Milan,  as  one  sent  by  God.  She  could  no  longer  stay 
in  Africa  without  her  son,  and  embarked  for  Italy. 
While  at  sea  a  storm  arose,  which  made  the  oldest  sailors 
tremble.  But  she,  feeling  strong  and  secure  under  the 
protection  of  the  Almighty,  encouraged  them  all,  and 
confidently  predicted  a  happy  termination  to  the  voyage  ; 
for  God  had  promised  it  to  her  in  a  vision.  In  Milan 
she  found  her  son  delivered  from  the  snares  of  Manichse- 
ism,  but  not  yet  a  believing  professor.  She  was  highly 
rejoiced,  and  accepted  the  partial  answer  of  her  tearful 
prayers  as  a  pledge  of  their  speedy  and  complete  fulfil- 
ment. "  My  son,"  said  she,  with  strong  assurance,  "  I 
believe  in  Christ,  that  before  I  depart  this  life  I  shall  see 
thee  become  a  believing.  Catholic  Christian."  * 

She  found  favor  with  Ambrose,  who  often  sj^oke  of 
her  with  great  respect,  and  thought  the  son  happy  who 
had  such  a  mother.  She  regularly  attended  his  minis- 
trations, and  willingly  gave  up  certain  usages,  which, 
though  observed  by  her  at  home,  were  not  in  vogue  at 
Milan,  such  as  fasting  on  Saturdays  and  love-feasts  at  the 
graves  of  the  martyrs.     "With  renewed  fervor  and  confi- 


*  Confess.  VI.  1:  "  Placidissime  et  pectore  pleno  fiducice  respondit  mihi, 
credere  se  in  Christo,  quod  priusquam  de  hac  vUa  em'ujraret  me  visura 
essel  fidelem  calhoUcum. ' ' 


MORAL  CONFLICTS — PROJECT   OF   MARRIAGE.  45 

dence  slie  now  prayed  to  God,  who  liad  already  led  the 
darling  of  her  heart  to  the  gates  of  the  sanctuary.  She 
was  soon  to  witness  the  fulfilment  of  her  desires. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MORAL    CONFLICTS — PROJECT   OF   MARRIAGE. 

AuGUSTEsr  continued  to  listen  to  the  discourses  of  Am- 
brose and  visit  him  at  his  house,  although  the  bishop, 
on  account  of  pressing  duties,  could  not  enter  so  fully 
as  he  wished  into  his  questions  and  doubts.  He  now 
obtained  a  more  just  idea  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Script- 
ures and  the  Church  than  the  perversions  of  the  Mani- 
chceans  had  afforded  him.  He  saw  "  that  all  the  knots 
of  cunning  misrepresentation  which  these  modern  be- 
trayers of  the  Divine  Word  had  tied  up  could  be  un- 
loosed, and  that  for  so  many  years  he  had  been  assailing, 
not  the  real  faith  of  the  Church,  but  chimeras  of  a  fleshly 
imagination."  He  now  first  began  to  prize  and  com- 
prehend the  Bible  in  some  measure,  while  before  it  had 
been  to  him  a  disagreeable  volume,  sealed  with  seven 
seals  ;  and  such  it  ever  is  to  all  those  who  wilfully  tear 
it  loose  from  living  Christianity,  and  drag  it  into  the 
forum  of  the  carnal  understanding,  "  which  perceives 
not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,"  and  thus  factiously 
constitute  themselves  judges  over  it,  instead  of  surrender- 
ing themselves  to  it  in  humble  obedience. 

Meanwhile  he  had  many  practical  and  theoretical  strug- 
gles to  pass  through  before  reaching  a  final  decision. 
About  this  time,  in  conjunction  with  his  friends,  among 


46  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

wliom  were  Alypius,  who  liad  come  with  him  to  Milan, 
and  JSTebridius,  who  had  lately  left  Africa,  in  order  to 
live  together  with  Augustin,  "  in  the  most  ardent  study  of 
truth  and  wisdom,"  he  resolved  to  form  a  philosophical 
union,  and,  in  undisturbed  retirement,  with  a  community 
of  goods,  to  devote  himself  exclusively  to  the  pursuit  of 
truth.  In  such  a  self-created  ideal  world,  which  com- 
mended itself  to  the  lofty  imagination  of  one  so  gifted 
and  noble  as  Augustin  was,  he  sought  a  substitute  for  the 
reality  of  Christianit^^and  the  deeper  earnestness  of  prac- 
tical life  and  activity.  "  Diverse  thoughts  were  thus  in 
our  hearts,  but  Thy  counsel,  O  God,  abides  in  eternity. 
According  to  that  counsel  Thou  didst  laugh  at  ours,  and 
work  out  Thine  own,  to  bestow  on  us  the  Spirit  at  the 
set  time."  "  While  the  winds  were  blowing  from  every 
quarter  and  tossing  my  heart  to  and  fro,  time  went  by, 
and  I  delayed  in  turning  to  the  Lord,  and  put  off  living 
in  Thee  from  day  to  day,  and  did  not  put  off  dying  daily 
in  myself.  Desiring  a  life  of  blessedness,  I  shunned  the 
place  where  it  dwelt,  and  sought  it  by  flying  from  it."  * 
The  romantic  scheme  fell  to  pieces,  because  the  friends 
could  not  agree  as  to  whether  marriage  ought  to  be  wholly 
forbidden  in  their  philosophical  hermitage,  as  Alypius 
desired,  in  the  fashion  of  the  ascetic  piety  of  that  age, 
or  not,  as  Augustin  proposed.  Tie  was  unable  then  to 
give  up  the  love  of  women.  "  1  believed  I  would  be- 
come very  unhappy  if  I  was  deprived  of  the  embraces 
of  woman,  and  I  did  not  consider  the  medicine  of  Thy 
grace  for  the  healing  of  this  weakness,  for  1  was  inex- 
perienced ;  for  I  esteemed  continency  an  affair  of  natural 
ability  of  which  I  was  not  conscious,  and  was  foolishly 


*  Confess.  VI.  11  :  "  Amando  hecdam  vitam,  timeham  illam  in  sede  sua, 
ei  ab  eafugiens  qucereham  earn." 


MORAL  CONFLICTS — PROJECT  OF   MARRIAGE.  47 

ignorant  of  what  the  Scripture  says  ("Wisdom  viii.  21), 
that  no  one  can  be  continent  unless  God  gives  him  power. 
Surely,  Thou  wouldst  have  given  it  to  me  had  1  prayed 
to  Thee  with  inward  groaning,  and  with  firm  faith  cast 
my  care  upon  Thee  !"  * 

On  this  account  Augustin  resolved  to  enter  into  formal 
wedlock,  though  for  certain  reasons  the  resolution  was 
never  carried  into  effect. 

His  mother,  who,  in  common  with  the  whole  Church 
of  that  era,  regarded  perfect  abstinence  as  a  higher 
grade  of  virtue,  still,  under  the  circumstances,  eagerly 
laid  hold  of  the  plan.  In  the  haven  of  marriage  she 
believed  him  secure  from  debauchery,  and  then  every 
hindrance  to  his  baptism,  which  she  so  ardently  desired, 
was  also  taken  away. 

Both  looked  around  for  a  suitable  match.  The  choice 
was  not  easily  made,  for  Augustin  wished  to  find  beauty, 
amiability,  refinement,  and  some  wealth  united  in  one 
person.  In  this  matter  the  mother,  as  usual,  took  coun- 
sel of  God  in  prayer.  At  last  a  lady  was  discovered  an- 
swerable to  their  wishes,  who  also  gave  her  consent,  but 
because  of  her  youth  the  nuptials  had  to  be  postponed 
for  two  years  longer. 

Augustin  immediately  discharged  his  mistress,  whom 
he  had  brought  with  him  from  Carthage,  and  who,  as 
one  would  think,  was  best  entitled  to  the  offer  of  his 
hand.  This  conduct  is  a  serious  blot  on  his  character, 
according  to  our  modern  notions  of  morality.  But  neither 
he  nor  Monnica  looked  upon  it  in  that  light,  and  were 
unconscious  of  doing  any  wrong.  The  unhappy  outcast, 
who  appears  to  have  loved  him  truly,  and  had  been  faith- 
ful to  him,  as  he  to  her,  during  the  thirteen  years  of 

*  Confess.  VI.  11. 


48  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

their  intercourse,  returned  to  Africa  with  a  heavy  heart, 
and  vowed  that  she  would  never  know  any  other  man. 
Their  natural  son,  Adeodatus,  she  left  with  his  father. 

Just  after  the  separation  Augustin  felt  with  bleeding 
heart  the  strength  of  his  unlawful  attachment.  So  strong 
had  the  power  of  sensuality  become  in  liim  through 
habit,  that  neither  the  recollections  of  the  departed  nor 
respect  for  his  bride  could  restrain  him  from  forming  a 
new  immoral  connection  for  the  interval.  Along  with 
this  carnal  lust  came  also  the  seductions  of  ambition  and 
a  longing  after  a  brilliant  career  in  the  world.  He  felt 
very  miserable  ;  he  must  have  been  ashamed  before  his 
own  better  self,  before  God  and  man.  "  But  the  more 
miserable  I  felt,  the  nearer  didst  Thou  come  to  me,  O 
God."  The  Disposer  of  his  life  had  His  hand  over  all 
this.  "  1  thought,  and  Thou  M^ert  with  me  ;  1  sighed, 
and  Thou  heardst  me  ;  I  was  tossed  about,  yet  Thou 
didst  pilot  me  ;  I  wandered  on  the  broad  way,  and  still 
Thou  didst  not  reject  me." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MENTAL    CONFLICTS. 

Yet  more  violent  and  painful  were  his  theoretical  con- 
flicts, the  tormenting  doubts  of  his  philosophic  spirit. 

The  question  concerning  the  origin  of  evil,  which  once 
attracted  him  to  the  Manichseans,  was  again  brooded 
over  with  renewed  interest.  The  heresy  that  evil  is  a 
substance,  and  co-ctcrnal  with  God,  he  had  rejected. 
But  whence  then  was  it  ?     The  Church  found  its  origin 


MENTAL  COlfFLICTS.  49 

in  tlie  will  of  the  creature,  who  was  in  the  beginning 
good,  and  of  his  own  free  choice  estranged  himself  from 
God.  But  here  the  question  arose,  Is  not  the  possibility 
of  evil,  imprinted  by  God  in  its  creation  on  the  will, 
itself  already  the  germ  of  evil  ?  Or  could  not  God,  as 
the  Almighty,  have  so  created  the  will  as  to  render  the 
fall  impossible  ?  How  can  He  then  be  a  Being  of  perfect 
goodness  ?  And  if  we  transfer  the  origin  of  evil,  as  the 
Church  does,  from  the  human  race  to  Satan,  through 
whose  temptation  Adam  fell,  the  difficulty  is  not  thereby 
settled,  but  only  pushed  further  back.  Whence,  then, 
the  Devil  ?  and  if  he  was  first  transformed  from  a  good 
angel  into  a  devil  by  a  wicked  will,  whence  then  that 
wicked  will  ? 

Here  he  was  again  met  by  the  spectre  of  Gnostic  and 
Manichgean  dualism,  but  soon  reverted  to  the  idea  of  the 
absolute  God,  whom  he  had  made  the  immovable  ground- 
pillar  of  his  thinking,  and  who  naturally  cannot  suffer 
the  admission  of  a  second  absolute  existence.  Perhaps 
evil  is  a  mere  shadow.  But  how  can  anything  unreal 
and  empty  prepare  such  fears  and  torments  for  the  con- 
science ? 

He  revolved  such  questions  in  his  mind,  and  found  no 
peace.  "  Thou,  my  God — Thou  alone  knowest  what  1 
suffered,  but  no  one  among  men."  He  was  not  able  to 
communicate  fully  the  tumult  of  his  soul  even  to  his  most 
intimate  friends.  But  these  conflicts  had  the  good  effect 
of  driving  him  to  prayer  and  strengthening  in  him  the 
conviction  that  mind,  left  to  itself,  can  never  reach  a  satis- 
factory result. 


50  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

CHAPTER  XIY. 

INFLUENCE   OF    PLATONISM. 

About  this  time,  somewhere  in  tlie  beginning  of  the 
year  386,  he  fell  in  with  certain  Platonic  and  New  Pla- 
tonic writings,  translated  into  Latin  by  the  rhetorician 
Victorinus,  who  afterward  was  converted  to  Christianity. 
No  doubt  he  had  a  general  acquaintance  with  this  phi- 
losophy before.  But  now,  for  the  first  time,  he  studied 
it  earnestly  in  its  original  sources,  to  which  he  was  intro- 
duced by  an  admiring  disciple.  He  himself  says  that  it 
kindled  in  him  an  incredible  ardor.* 

Platonism  is  beyond  dispute  the  noblest  product  of 
heathen  speculation,  and  stands  in  closer  contact  with 
Revelation  than  any  other  philosophical  system  of  an- 
fiqiiity.  It  is  in  some  measure  an  unconscious  prophecy 
of  Christ,  in  whom  alone  its  sublime  ideals  can  ever  be- 
come truth  and  reality.  The  Platonic  philosophy  is  dis- 
tinguished by  a  lofty  ideality,  which  raises  man  above  the 
materialistic  doings  and  sensual  views  of  every-day  life 
into  tlie  invisible  world,  to  the  contemplation  of  truth, 
beauty,  and  virtue.  It  is  genuine ^yhilosajy/iy,  or  love  of 
wisdom,  home-sickness — deep  longing  and  earnest  search 
after  truth.  It  reminds  man  of  liis  original  likeness  to 
God,  and  thus  gives  him  a  glimpse  of  the  true  end  of  all 
his  endeavor. 

Platonism  also  approaches  Revelation  in  several  of  its 


*  Conir.  Academ.  II.  5  :  "  E'iam  mild  ipsi  de  me  ipso  incredibile  in- 
cendium  in  me  concitarunt."  Comp.  my  Ulsfory  of  the  Aposl.  Church, 
p.  150  sqq.,  and  my  Church  History,  vol.  II.  p.  95  sqq.,  where  the  rela- 
tion of  Platonism  to  Christianity  and  to  the  Church  Fathers  is  dis- 
cussed in  detail. 


INFLUENCE  OF  PLATONISM.  51 

doctrines,  at  least  in  the  fonn  of  obscure  intimation. 
We  may  here  mention  its  presentiment  of  the  unity,  and, 
in  a  certain  measure,  the  trinity  of  the  Divine  Being; 
the  conception  that  the  world  of  ideas  is  alone  true  and 
eternal,  and  the  world  of  sense  its  copy  ;  and  further, 
that  the  human  soul  has  fallen  away  from  a  condition  of 
original  purity,  and  merited  its  present  suffering  existence 
in  the  prison  of  the  body  ;  but  that  it  should  have  long- 
ing aspirations  after  its  home,  the  higher  world,  free 
itseK  from  the  bonds  of  sense,  and  strive  after  the  high- 
est spiritual  and  eternal  good. 

Hence  it  was  no  wonder  that  Platonism  to  many  culti- 
vated heathens  and  some  of  the  most  prominent  fathers, 
especially  in  the  Greek  Church,  became  a  theoretical 
schoolmaster  for  leading  to  Christ,  as  the  Law  was  a 
practical  schoolmaster  to  the  Jews.  It  delivered  Au- 
gustin  completely  from  the  bondage  of  Manichsean  dual- 
ism and  Academic  scepticism,  and  turned  his  gaze  inward 
and  upward.  In  the  heiglit  of  his  enthusiasm  he  be- 
lieved that  he  had  already  discovered  the  hidden  foun- 
tain of  wisdom.  But  he  had  soon  to  learn  that  not  the 
abstract  knowledge  of  the  truth,  but  living  in  it,  could 
alone  give  peace  to  the  soul  ;  and  that  this  end  could  only 
be  reached  in  the  way  of  divine  revelation  and  practical 
experience  of  the  heart. 

Although  the  Platonic  philosophy  contained  so  many 
elements  allied  to  Christianity,  there  were  yet  two  im- 
portant points  not  found  therein  :  iirst,  the  great  mys- 
tery, the  Word  made  flesh  ;  and  then  love,  resting  on 
the  basis  of  humility.*  The  Platonic  philosophy  held 
up  before  him  beautiful  ideals,  without  giving  him  power 

*  Confess.  YII.  20  :  "  UM  enim  erai  ilia  cariias  a'dijicans  a  fundru 
m&nto  humililaiis,  quod  est  Chiistus  Jesus  f  Aut  quando  illi  Ubri  [Pla- 
tonici']  docerent  me  earn  ?" 


SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 


to  attain  tliem.  If  lie  attempted  to  seize  them  ungodly 
impulses  would  suddenly  drag  him  down  again  into  the 
mire. 


CHAPTER  XY. 


STUDY   OF   THE    SCEIPTUKES. 


Thus  the  admonition  to  study  the  Holy  Scriptures  was 
addressed  to  him  once  more,  and  in  a  stronger  tone  than 
ever.  He  now  gave  earnest  heed  to  it,  and  drew  near 
the  holy  volume  with  deep  reverence  and  a  sincere  de- 
sire for  salvation.  * 

He  was  principally  carried  away  with  the  study  of  the 
Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  and  read  them  through  collectively 
with  the  greatest  care  and  admiration.  Here  he  found 
all  those  truths  which  addressed  him  in  Platonism  no 
longer  obscurely  foreshadowed,  but  fulfilled  ;  and  yet 
much  more  besides.  Here  he  found  Christ  as  the  Medi- 
ator between  God  and  man,  between  heaven  and  earth, 
who  alone  can  give  us  pow^er  to  attain  those  lofty  ideals 
and  embody  them  in  life.  Here  he  read  that  masterly  de- 
lineation of  the  conflict  between  the  spirit  and  the  flesh 
(Rom.  vii.),  which  was  literally  confirmed  by  his  own  ex- 
perience. Here  he  learned  to  know  aright  the  depth  of 
the  ruin  and  the  utter  impossibility  of  being  delivered 
from  it  by  any  natural  wisdom  or  natural  strength,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  great  remedy  which  God  graciously 
offers  to  us  in  His  beloved  Son. 

Such  light,  such  consolation,  and  such  power  the  Pla- 

*  Confess.  VII.  21 :  "  Itaque  avidissime  arripui  venerabilem  stilum 
Spiriius  tui,  etprcv  cceieris  Apostolum  Faulum,"  etc. 


STUDY    OF   THE   SCRIPTURES.  53 

tonic  writings  bad  never  yielded.  "  On  tlieir  pages," 
lie  says  very  beautifully,  in  tlie  close  of  tbe  seventb  book 
of  bis  Confessions,  "  no  traces  of  piety  like  tbis  can  be 
discovered  ;  tears  of  penitence  ;  Tby  sacrifice,  tbe  broken 
spirit  ;  tbe  bumble  and  tbe  contrite  beart  ;  tbe  bealing 
of  tbe  nations  ;  tbe  Bride,  tbe  City  of  God  ;  tbe  earnest 
of  tbe  Holy  Spirit ;  tbe  cup  of  our  salvation.  No  one 
sings  tbere  :  '  Truly  my  soul  waitetb  upon  God  ;  from 
Him  cometb  my  salvation  ;  He  only  is  my  rock  and  my 
salvation  ;  He  is  my  bigb  tower  ;  I  sball  not  be  greatly 
moved.'  (Ps.  Ixii.  1,  2.)  Tbere  no  one  bears  tbe  invi- 
tation :  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  tbat  labor  and  are  beavy- 
laden,  and  1  wnll  give  you  rest.'  (Matt.  xi.  28.)  Tbey 
[tbe  Platonists]  disdain  to  learn  of  Him  wbo  is  meek  and 
lowly  in  beart ;  tbey  cannot  imagine  wby  tbe  lowly  sbould 
teacb  tbe  lowly,  nor  understand  wbat  is  meant  by  His 
taking  tbe  form  of  a  servant.  For  Tbou  bast  liidden  it 
from  tbe  wise  and  prudent,  and  revealed  it  unto  babes. 
It  is  one  tiling  to  see  afar  off,  from  tbe  summit  of  a 
woody  mountain,  tbe  fatberland  of  peace,  and  witbout 
any  patb  leading  tbitber,  to  wander  around  lost  and  weary 
among  byways,  baunted  by  lions  and  dragons,  tbat  lurk 
in  ambusb  for  tlieir  prey  ;  and  quite  anotber  to  keep 
safely  on  a  road  tbat  leads  tbitber,  guarded  by  tbe  care 
of  a  Celestial  Captain,  wbere  no  robbers,  wbo  bave  for- 
saken tbe  beavenly  army,  ever  lie  in  wait.  Tliis  made 
a  wonderful  impression  on  my  spirit,  wlien  1  read  tbe 
bumblest  of  Tbine  Apostles  (1  Cor.  xv.  9),  and  consid- 
ered Tby  works,  and  saw  tbe  deptbs  of  sin." 


5-i  SAINT    AUGUSTIN". 

CHAPTER  XYI. 

augustin's  conversion. 

We  now  stand  on  the  tlireshold  of  his  conversion. 
Theoretically  he  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Church,  but  practically  had  yet  to  undergo, 
in  his  bitter  experience,  the  judgment  of  St,  Paul  : 
"  The  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit 
against  the  flesh."  (Gal.  v.  IT.)  No  sooner  did  his 
soul  rise  into  the  pure  ether  of  connnunion  with  God 
than  the  cords  of  sense  drew  him  down  again  into  the 
foul  atmosphere  of  earth.  "  The  world,"  said  he,  "  lost 
its  charms  before  Thy  sweetness  and  before  the  glory  of 
Thy  house,  which  I  had  learned  to  love  ;  but  I  was  yet 
Lound  by  strong  ties  to  a  woman."  "  1  had  found  the 
beautiful  pearl ;  1  should  have  sold  all  I  possessed  to  buy 
it,  and  yet  I  hesitated." 

Amid  the  tumult  of  the  world  he  often  sighed  after 
solitude.  Desiring  counsel,  and  unwilling  to  disturb  the 
indefatigable  Ambrose,  he  betook  himself  to  the  vener- 
able  priest  Simplicianus,  who  had  grown  gray  in  the  ser- 
vice of  his  Master.  The  priest  described  to  him,  for  his 
encouragement,  the  conversion  of  his  friend  Yictorinus, 
a  learned  teacher  of  rhetoric  at  Rome,  and  translator  of 
the  Platonic  writings,  who  had  passed  over  from  the 
Platonic  philosophy  to  a  zealous  study  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  cordially  embraced  the  Saviour  with  a  sacrifice  of 
great  worldly  gain.  For  a  long  time  he  believed  he 
could  be  a  Christian  without  joining  the  Church,  and  Ij 
when  Simplicianus  rephed  to  him  :  "  1  will  not  count/ 
you  a  Christian  before  I  see  you  in  the  Cliurch  ol'i 
Christ,"  Victorinus  asked  with  a  smile  :   "  Do  the  walls,  y 


AUGUSTUS'S    COXVERSION".  55 

then,  make  Christians  ?"  *  But  afterward  he  came  to 
see  that  he  who  does  not  confess  Christ  openly  before  the 
world  need  not  hope  to  be  confessed  by  Him  before  His 
Heavenly  Father  (Matt.  x.  32,  33),  and  therefore  submit- 
ted in  humble  faith  to  the  washing  of  baptism. 

Augustin  vv^ished  to  do  likewise,  but  his  will  was  not 
yet  strong  enough.  He  compares  his  condition  to  that 
of  a  man  drunk  with  sleej),  who  wishes  to  rise  up,  but 
now  for  the  first  time  rightly  feels  the  sweetness  of  slum- 
ber, and  sinks  back  again  into  its  arms.  In  a  still  more 
warning  and  pressing  tone  the  voice  sounded  in  his  ears  : 
"  Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead, 
and  Christ  shall  shine  upon  thee''  (Eph.  v.  14)  ;  but  he 
answered  lazily  :  "  Soon,  yes,  soon  !  only  wait  a  little  ;" 
and  the  soon  passed  on  into  hours,  days,  and  weeks.  In 
vain  his  inward  man  delighted  in  the  law  of  God,  for 
another  law  in  his  members  warred  against  the  law  of  his 
mind,  and  brought  him  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin. 
(Rom.  vii.  22,  23.)  His  disquietude  rose  higher  and 
higher  ;  his  longing  became  violent  agony.  Oftentimes 
he  would  tear  his  hair,  smite  his  forehead,  wring  his 
hands  about  his  knees,  and  cry  out  despairingly  :  "  O 
wretched  man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  out  of 
the  body  of  this  death  ?"     (Rom.  vii.  24.) 

These  conflicts,  in  connection  with  the  weight  of  his 
literary  labors,  had  exerted  such  an  injurious  influence  on 
his  health  that  he  began  to  think  seriously  of  resigning 
his  post  as  a  rhetorician. 

One  day,  as  he  sat  in  a  downcast  mood  with  his  bosom 
friend  Alypius,  who  was  involved  in  similar  struggles, 


*  Confess.  VIII.  2  :  "  Ergo  parietes  faciunt  Chrisiianos  ?"  This  pas- 
sage is  sometimes  torn  from  its  connectioa  and  misused  for  a  purpose 
directly  opposite  ;  since  Augustin  quotes  it  to  show  that  a  man 
could  not  be  a  Christian  without  joining  the  visible  Church. 


5G  SAINT   AUGUSTIKT. 

tlieir  countryman  Pontitianus,  a  superior  officer  in  the 
Roman  army,  and  at  the  same  time  a  zealous  Christian, 
entered  the  chamber.  He  was  surprised,  instead  of  a 
classic  author  or  a  Manichsean  writer,  to  see  the  Epistles 
of  Paul  lying  on  the  table.  He  began  a  religious  con- 
versation, and  in  the  course  of  his  remarks  took  occasion 
to  speak  of  the  Egyptian  hermit  Anthony  (died  356), 
who,  in  literal  pursuance  of  the  Saviour's  advice  to  the 
rich  young  man  (Matt.  xix.  21),  had  given  up  all  his 
property  in  order  to  live  to  the  Lord  unrestricted  and 
undisturbed,  in  solitude,  and  tliere  to  work  out  the  salva- 
tion of  his  soul.  The  two  friends  had  as  yet  heard  noth- 
ing of  the  wonderful  saint  of  the  desert,  the  venerable 
father  of  monachism,  and  just  as  little  of  a  cloister  out- 
side of  the  walls  of  Mihan,  under  the  supervision  of  Am- 
brose, and  were  now  charmed  and  ashamed  at  the  infor- 
mation. Their  countryman  related  further  how,  during 
his  stay  at  Treves,  two  of  his  friends,  who  were  both 
engaged  to  be  married,  obtained,  on  a  visit  to  a  cell,  the 
biograpliy  of  Anthony  ascribed  to  Athanasius,  the  great 
"  father  of  orthodoxy,"  and  on  reading  it  fell  so  in  love 
with  the  contemplative  life  and  the  higher  perfection 
there  portrayed,  that  they  threw  up  their  commissions  in 
the  army  and  took  leave  of  the  world  forever.  Their 
brides  did  likewise. 

This  was  a  sting  for  the  conscience  of  Augustin.  The 
soldiers  and  their  brides  had  heard  the  call  of  the  Lord 
only  once,  and  obeyed  it  immediately.  And  he  ?  It 
was  now  more  than  twelve  years  since  the  Hortensius  of 
Cicero  had  stirred  him  up  so  powerfully  to  search  after 
truth,  and  ever  clearer  and  clearer  the  voice  of  the  Good 
Shepherd  had  sounded  in  his  ears.  And  yet  his  will  rose 
up  in  rebellion  ;  he  was  not  ready  to  renounce  the  world 
wholly,  but  desired  to  retain  at  least  some  of  its  pleasures. 


augustin's  conversion.  57 

Pontitianiis  left  the  house.  Then  the  storm  in  the 
soul  of  Augustin  broke  loose  with  greater  violence,  and 
expressed  itself  in  the  features  of  his  countenance,  his 
looks,  and  his  gestures  still  more  than  in  his  words. 
"  What  has  happened  to  us  ?"  said  he  to  Alypius — "  what 
is  it  ?  What  hast  thou  heard  ?  The  unlearned  rise  up 
and  lay  hold  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  we,  with 
our  heartless  knowledge — see  how  we  wallow  in  flesh  and 
blood  !  Shall  we  be  ashamed  to  follow  them  because 
they  have  gone  before,  and  not  ashamed  not  to  follow 
them  at  all  f '  * 

After  he  had  said  this,  and  more  in  a  similar  strain,  he 
rushed  out  with  the  Epistles  of  Paul  in  his  hand  into  an 
adjoining  garden,  where  no  one  would  be  likely  to  inter- 
rupt the  agitation  of  his  soul  until  God  Himself  should 
allay  it.  For  it  was,  as  he  said,  despair  or  salvation, 
death  or  life.     Alypius  followed  in  his  footsteps. 

"  We  removed  as  far  as  possible  from  the  house.  1 
groaned  in  spirit,  full  of  stormy  indignation  that  I  had  not 
entered  into  covenant  and  union  with  Tliee,  my  God, 
and  all  my  bones  cried  out  ;  thither  must  thou  go  !  But 
it  was  not  possible  to  go  by  ship,  or  wagon,  or  on  foot,  as 
we  go  to  any  place  we  please.  For  going  thither  and 
coming  there  is  nothing  else  than  to  will  to  go  thither, 
and  to  will  y\\t\\f%tll  power — not  to  waver  and  be  tossed 
to  and  fro  with  a  divided  will,  which  now  rises  up  and 
now  sinks  down  in  the  struggle."  f  He  was  angry  at 
the  perverseness  of  his  will  :  "  The  spirit  orders  the 
body,  and  it  obeys  instantly  ;  the  spirit  orders  itself,  and 


*  Confess.  VIII.  8. 

f  Confess.  VIII.  8  :  "  Nam  non  solum  ire,  verum  eliam  pervenire  iV.uc, 
nihil  erat  aliud,  quamvelle  ire,  sed  velle  fortiter  et  integre;  non  semisaucium 
hac  aique  hac  versnre  eijadare  voluniatem,  parte  adsurgenie  cum  alia  parte 
cadenle  ludantem." 


58  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

it  refuses.  The  spirit  orders  the  hand  to  move,  and  it 
does  it  60  quickly  that  one  can  scarcely  distinguish  be- 
tween the  act  and  the  command  ;  the  spirit  commands 
the  spirit  to  will,  and  although  the  same,  it  will  not  do  it. 
Whence  this  monstrosity  ?  It  is  a  disease  of  the  spirit 
that  prevents  it  from  rising  up  ;  the  will  is  split  and 
divided  ;  thus  there  are  two  wills  in  conflict  with  each 
other,  one  good  and  one  evil,  and  I  myself  it  was  who 
willed  and  who  did  not  will," 

Thus  was  he  pulled  hither  and  thither,  accusing  him- 
self more  severely  than  ever,  and  turning  and  rolling  in 
his  fetters  until  they  should  be  wholly  broken,  by  which, 
indeed,  he  was  no  longer  wholly  bound,  but  only  yet. 

And  when  he  had  thus  dragged  up  all  his  misery  from 
its  mysterious  depths,  and  gathered  it  before  the  eye  of 
his  soul,  a  huge  storm  arose  that  discharged  itself  in  a 
flood  of  tears.* 

In  such  a  frame  of  mind  he  wished  to  be  alone  with 
his  God,  and  withdrew  from  Alypius  into  a  retired  cor- 
ner of  the  garden.  Here  Augustin,  he  knew  not  how, 
threw  himself  down  upon  the  earth,  under  a  fig-tree,  and 
gave  free  vent  to  his  tears.  "  Thou,  my  Lord,''  he 
cried,  with  sobbing  voice,  "how  long  yet?  O  Lord, 
how  long  yet  wilt  Thou  be  angry  ?  Remember  not  the 
sins  of  my  youth  !  IIow  long  ?  how  long  ?  To-morrow, 
and  again,  to-morrow  ?  Why  not  to-day,  why  not  now  ? 
Why  not  in  this  hour  put  an  end  to  my  shame  ?"  f 

*  Govfess.  VIII.  12  :  "  Oborta  est  procella  ingens,  ferens  ingentem 
imbrem  lacrymarum." 

t  Confess.  VIII.  12  :  "El  non  qaidem  his  verbis,  sed  in  hac  sententla 
multa  dixi  iibi :  El  in  Domine,  nsquequo  ?  Usquequo,  Domine,  irasceris  in 
finem  ?  Ke  mernor  fueris  iniquitaium  nostrarum  aatiquarum  !  Sentiebam 
enim  eis  me  iene7-i.  Jadabam  voces  miserabiles  :  Quamdiu  f  Quanidiu  ? 
Cras  et  eras?  Quare  non  modo ?  Quare  non  hac  hora  finis  turpitudinis 
meaef  Dicebam  hcec,  etfi^bam  amarissima  contriiione  cordis  mei." 


augustin's  conversion-.  59 

Thus  he  prayed,  supph'cated,  sighed,  wrestled,  and 
wept  bitterly.  They  were  the  birth-joangs  of  the  new 
life.  From  afar  he  saw  the  Church  in  the  beauty  of 
holiness.  The  glorified  sj)irits  of  the  redeemed,  who 
had  been  snatched  from  the  abyss  by  the  All-merciful 
and  transplanted  into  a  heavenly  state  of  being,  beckoned 
to  him.  Still  more  powerfully  the  longing  burned 
within  him  ;  still  more  hot  and  rapidly  beat  the  pulse  of 
desire  after  the  Saviour's  embrace  ;  as  a  weary,  hunted 
stag  after  the  fresh  water-brooks,  so  ^^anted  his  heart 
after  the  living  God  and  a  draught  from  the  chalice  of 
His  grace. 

The  hour  of  deliverance  had  now  come.  The  Lord 
had  already  stretched  out  His  hand  to  tear  asunder  the 
last  cords  that  bound  his  prodigal  son  to  the  world,  and 
press  him  to  a  warm,  true  father's  heart. 

As  Augustin  was  thus  lying  in  the  dust  and  ashes  of 
repentance,  and  agonizing  with  his  God  in  prayer,  he 
suddenly  heard  from  a  neighboring  house,  as  though 
from  some  celestial  height,  the  sweet  voice,  whether  of  a 
boy  or  a  maiden  he  knew  not,  calling  out  again  and 
again,  ''^ToUe  lege,  tolle  lege  f''  i.e.,  "Take  and  read." 
It  was  a  voice  from  God  that  decided  his  heart  and  life. 
"Then  1  repressed,"  so  he  further  relates  in  the  last 
chapter  of  the  eighth  book  of  his  Confessions,  "  the 
gush  of  tears,  and  raised  myself  up,  while  I  received  the 
word  as  nothing  else  than  a  divine  injunction  to  open  the 
Scriptures  and  read  the  first  chapter  that  would  catch 
my  eye.  I  had  heard  how  Anthony,  once  accidentally 
present  during  the  reading  of  the  gospel  in  church,  had 
felt  himself  admonished,  as  though  what  was  read  had 
been  specially  aimed  at  him  :  '  Go,  sell  that  thou  hast, 
and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven  ;  and  come,  follow  me  '  (Matt.  xix.  20),  and  that, 


60  SAINT  AUGUSTIN". 

by  this  oracle,  lie  had  been  immediately  converted,  my 
God,  to  Thee." 

He  hastened  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  the  Holy 
Book,  and  where  Alypius  sat  ;  snatched  it  up,  opened, 
and   read  :  ' '  Let  us  walk   honestly,  as  in  the  day  ; 

NOT  IN  REVELLING  AND  DRUNKENNESS,  NOT   IN  CHAMBERING 
AND  WANTONNESS,  NOT  IN  STRIFE  AND  JEALOUSY.       BuT  PUT 

YE  ON  THE  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  make  not  provision 

FOR  THE  flesh,  TO  FULFIL   THE  LUSTS    THEREOF."       (Rom. 

xiii.  13,  14.)* 

This  passage  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  was  exactly 
suited  to  his  circumstances.  It  called  on  him  to  renounce 
his  old,  wild  life,  and  begin  a  new  life  with  Christ.  He 
found  still  more  in  it,  according  to  the  ascetic  spirit  of 
the  age,  and  resolved  to  renounce  all  the  honors  and 
pleasures  of  the  world,  even  his  contemplated  marriage, 
in  order  to  devote  himself,  without  restraint,  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Lord  and  His  Church,  and,  if  possible,  to 
attain  the  highest  grade  of  moral  perfection. f 

He  read  no  further.     That  single  word  of  God  was 


*  After  the  original  and  the  Vulgate  :  "  et  carnis  providentiam  ne 
fecerids  in  concupiscentiis,"  which  Augustin,  in  his  present  condi- 
tion, understood  as  a  challenge  to  renounce  completely  every  desire 
of  the  iiesh.  Luther,  on  the  contrary,  has  translated  it  :  "  Waiiet 
des  Leibes,  dock  also,  dass  er  nicht  geil  werde,"  ■which  gives  a  different 
sense.  But  in  such  a  case  acbfia  -would  be  used  in  the  Greek  instead 
of  adp^,  and  the  conjunctive  particle  fi^  would  stand  after  and  not 
before  Tvpdvoiav. 

f  Cb«/css. Vin.  12:  "ConverlisH  vieadte,  utnec  uxorem  quaererem,  nee 
aliquam  spem  scccuU  hiijus,  "etc.  Anthony,  whose  example  had  wrought 
powerfully  in  tbe  conversion  of  Aiigustin,  had,  likewise,  in  literal 
accordance  with  the  words  of  Christ  (Matt.  xix.  21),  sold  all  that  he 
bad,  and  given  it  to  the  poor.  According  to  the  views  of  the  ancient 
Church,  which  can  be  traced  back  as  far  as  the  second  century,  vol- 
untary poverty,  celibacy,  and  martyrdom  were  the  way  to  a  more 
literal  following  of  Christ  and  a  higher  grade  of  holiness  and  bliss. 


SOJOURN   IN  THE   COUNTRY.  61 

sufficient  to  decide  his  whole  future.  The  gloomy 
clouds  of  doubt  and  despondency  rolled  away  ;  the  for- 
giveness of  his  sins  was  sealed  to  him  ;  j^eace  and  joy 
streamed  into  his  bosom.  With  his  finger  on  the  passage 
read,  he  shut  the  book,  and  told  Alypius  what  had  hap- 
pened. The  latter  wished  to  read  the  words,  and  hit 
upon  the  next  following  verse  (xiv.  1),  "Him  that  is 
weak  in  the  faith  receive  ye."  He  applied  the  warning 
to  himself. 

Both  hastened,  in  the  first  ardor  of  conversion,  to 
Monnica.  The  faithful  soul  must  hear  the  glad  tidings 
before  others.  She  cried  aloud  and  exulted,  and  her 
heart  overflowed  with  thankfulness  to  the  Lord,  who,  at 
last,  after  long,  long  delay,  had  answered  beyond  her 
prayers  and  comprehension. 

This  occurred  in  September  of  the  year  386,  in  the 
thirty-third  year  of  his  life.  Truly  says  Augustin  :  "All 
who  worship  Thee  must,  when  they  hear  this,  cry  out  : 
Blessed  be  the  Lord,  in  heaven  and  on  earth  ;  great  and 
wonderful  is  His  name  !" 


CHAPTER  XVIL 


SOJOURN    IN   THE   COUNTRY. 


Augustin  continued  in  office  the  few  remaining  weeks, 
till  the  autumnal  holidays,  and  then  handed  in  his  resig- 
nation as  public  teacher  of  forensic  eloquence,  partly  on 
account  of  a  weakness  of  the  breast,  but  chiefly  because 
he  had  firmly  resolved  to  consecrate  himself  henceforth 
wholly   and   entirely  to   the   pursuit  of  divine  things. 


G3  SAINT  AUGUSTIX. 

Along  with  his  mother,  liis  son,  and  his  brother  Navi- 
gius,  Aljpius,  and  other  friends,  he  now  withdrew  to 
Cassiciacum,  a  villa  lying  near  Milan,  which  belonged  to 
his  friend  Yerecundus.*  He  passed  six  months  there 
under  the  serene  Italian  sky,  in  view  of  the  glorious 
Swiss  Alps,  devoted  to  quiet  meditation  and  preparation 
for  the  rite  of  holy  baptism. 

He  had  asked  the  advice  of  Ambrose  as  to  what  parts 
of  Scripture  he  ought  to  study  under  his  peculiar  circum- 
stances. The  bishop  recommended  the  Prophecies  of 
Isaiah.  But  as  Augustin  could  not  rightly  understand 
them  he  selected  the  Psalms,  and  found  there  just  what 
he  desired — the  hallowed  expression  of  his  deepest  relig- 
ious feelings,  from  the  low,  sad  wail  of  penitence  and 
contrition  up  to  the  inspiring  song  of  praise  to  the 
Divine  Mercy.  Half  the  night  he  spent  in  their  study 
and  in  pious  meditation,  and  enjoyed  most  blessed  hours 
of  intimate  communion  with  God.  He  now  mourned 
over  and  pitied  the  Manichasans  for  being  so  blind  in 
regard  to  the  Old  Testament,  which  they  rejected.  "  I 
wished  only,"  he  once  thought,  "  they  could  have  been 
in  my  neighborhood  without  my  knowing  it,  and  could 
have  seen  my  face  and  heard  my  voice  when  in  that  re- 
tirement 1  read  the  Fourth  Psalm,  and  how  that  Psalm 
wrought  upon  me." 

A  great  part  of  the  day  he  devoted  to  the  education  of 
two  young  men  from  his  native  city.  His  j)ropensity  for 
speculative  meditation  w^as  so  strong  that  he  resorted 
with  his  company,  in  good  weather,  to  the  shade  of  a 
large  tree,  and  in  bad  to  the  halls  of  the  baths  belonging 
to  the  villa,  and,  walking  up  and  down  in  the  freest 


*  Probably  near  the  town  Casciago  in  Lombardy,  at  the  foot  of  a 
group  of  hills,  from  which  there  is  a  sublime  view  of  the  Monte  Kosa. 


SOJOUR^r    IN"   THE   COUXTRY.  63 

manner,  delivered  discourses  on  tliose  philosopliical  sub- 
jects which  stood  in  the  nearest  relation  to  the  most 
weighty  practical  interests  of  the  heart — such  as  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  the  idea  of  genuine  wisdom,  the 
life  of  blessedness  and  the  way  to  it.  Monnica  took  part 
in  the  discussion,  and  showed  a  rare  degree  of  good 
sense  and  strength  of  intellect,  so  that  the  men  forgot  her 
sex  and  thought  that  "  some  great  man  was  in  their  cir- 
cle." These  discourses  were  written  down,  and  thus  the 
earliest  works  of  the  great  theologian,  mostly  philosophi- 
cal in  their  contents,  took  their  rise. 

Of  these  the  most  important  are  :  First,  three  books 
against  the  sceptical  school  of  the  Later  Academy  {Con- 
tra Academicos)^  which  denied  the  possibility  of  know- 
ing the  truth.  In  o]3[)osition  it  was  shown  that  scepti- 
cism either  abrogates  itself  or,  in  a  modified  form,  as  a 
scheme  of  probabilities,  bears  witness  to  the  existence  of 
truth,  for  the  probable  must  presuppose  the  true.  Not 
the  mere  striving  after  truth,  only  the  possession  of  it, 
can  render  happy.  But  it  is  only  to  be  found  in  God, 
since  He  alone  is  happy  who  is  in  God  and  God  in  Ilim, 
The  second  discourse  is  a  tract  on  the  Life  of  Blessedness 
{De  Beata  Vita),  in  which  these  latter  thoughts  are 
further  developed.  And  last,  his  "  Soliloquies,"  or 
Discourses  with  his  own  Soul,  concerning  God,  concern- 
ing the  highest  good,  concerning  his  own  nature,  immor- 
tality, and  the  like.  From  these  we  will  quote  a  single 
j)assage,  to  show  the  state  of  his  mind  at  that  time. 

"  O  God,  Creator  of  the  world" — thus  he  prayed  to  the  Lord — 
"  grant  me,  first  of  all,  grace  to  call  upon  Thee  in  a  manner  -well- 
pleasing  unto  Thee  ;  that  I  may  so  conduct  myself,  that  Thoti  mayest 
hear  and  then  help  me.  Thou  God,  through  whom  all,  that  cannot 
be  of  itself,  rises  into  being  ;  who  even  dost  not  suffer  to  fall  into 
destruction  what  would  destroy  itself  ;  who  never  workest  evil  and 
rulest  over  the  power  of  evil  ;  who  revealest  unto  the  few  who  seek 


64  SAINT  AUGUSTIISr. 

after  a  true  existence  that  evil  can  be  overcome  ;  God,  to  ■whom  the 
universe,  in  spite  of  evil,  is  perfect  ;  God,  whom  what  can  love,  loves 
consciously  or  unconsciously  ;  God,  in  whom  all  is,  and  whom  yet 
neither  the  infamy  of  the  creature  can  disgrace,  nor  his  wickedness 
defile,  nor  his  error  lead  astray  ;  God,  who  hast  preserved  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth  for  the  pure  alone  ;  Father  of  truth.  Father  of 
wisdom,  Father  of  true  and  perfect  life.  Father  of  blessedness,  Father 
of  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  Father  of  our  awakening  and  enlight- 
ening, Father  of  the  promise  by  which  we  are  encouraged  to  return 
unto  Thee,  I  invoke  Thee,  0  Truth,  in  which  and  from  which  and 
by  which  all  is  true,  that  is  true  ;  O  Wisdom,  in  which  and  from 
which  and  by  which  all  is  wise,  that  is  wise  ;  O  true  and  most  per- 
fect Life,  in  which  and  from  which  and  by  which  all  lives,  that  lives  ; 
O  Blessedness,  in  which  and  from  which  and  by  which  all  is  blessed, 
that  is  blessed  ;  O  Beauty  and  Goodness,  in  which  and  from  which 
and  by  which  all  is  good  and  beautiful,  that  is  good  and  beautiful  ; 

0  spiritual  Light,  in  which  and  from  which  and  by  which  all  is  spirit- 
ually light,  that  is  spiritually  light  ;  God,  from  whom  to  turn  away 
is  to  fall,  to  whom  to  turn  again  is  to  rise,  in  whom  to  remain  is  to 
endure  ;  God,  from  whom  to  withdraw  is  to  die,  to  whom  to  return 
is  to  live  again,  in  whom  to  dwell  is  to  live  ;  0  God,  Thou  who  dost 
sanctify  and  jirepare  us  for  an  everlasting  inheritance,  bow  down  Thy- 
self to  me  in  pity  !  Come  to  my  help.  Thou  one,  eternal,  true  Essence, 
in  whom  there  is  no  discord,  no  confusion,  no  change,  no  need,  no 
death,  but  the  highest  unity,  the  highest  purity,  the  highest  durabil- 
ity, the  highest  fulness,  the  highest  life.  Hear,  hear,  hear  me,  my 
God,  my  Lord,  my  King,  my  Father,  my  Hope,  my  Desire,  my  Glory, 
my  Habitation,  my  Home,  my  Salvation,  my  Light,  my  Life,  hear, 
hear,  hear  me,  as  Thou  art  wont  to  hear  Thy  Chosen. 

"  Already,  I  love  Thee  alone,  follow  Thee  alone,  seek  Thee  alone, 
am  prepared  to  serve  Thee  only,  because  Thou  alone  rulest  in  right- 
eousness. O  command  and  order  what  Thou  wilt,  but  heal  and  open 
mine  ears,  that  I  may  hear  Thy  word  ;  deal  and  open  mine  eyes,  that 

1  may  see  Thy  nod  ;  drive  out  my  delusion,  that  I  may  recognize 
Thee  again.  O  gracious  Father,  take  back  again  Thy  wanderer. 
Have  I  not  been  chastised  enough  ?  Have  I  not  long  enough  served 
Thine  enemies,  whom  Thou  hast  under  Thy  feet— long  enough  been 
the  sport  of  deception?  Receive  me  as  Thy  servant,  for  I  fly  from 
those  who  received  me  as  a  stranger,  when  I  fled  from  Thee.  In- 
crease in  me  faith,  hope,  love,  according  to  Thy  wonderful  and  inim- 
itable goodness. 

"  I  desire  to  come  to  Thee,  and  again  implore  Thee  for  that  by 


SOJOURN"  IN"   THE   COUNTRY.  G5 

■which  I  may  come.  For  where  Thou  forsakest,  there  is  destruction  ; 
but  Thou  dost  not  forsake,  because  Thou  art  the  Highest  Good, 
which  every  one,  who  seeks  aright,  will  surely  find.  But  he  seeks  it 
aright,  to  whom  Thou  hast  given  power  to  seek  aright.  Grant  me 
power,  0  Father,  to  seek  Thee  aright  ;  shield  me  from  error  !  Let  me 
not,  when  I  seek,  find  another  in  Thy  stead.  I  desire  none  other 
but  Thee  ;  O  let  me  yet  find  Thee,  my  Father  !  But  such  a  desire  is 
vain,  since  Thou  Thyself  canst  purify  me  and  fit  me  to  behold  Thee. 
"  Whatever  else  the  welfare  of  my  mortal  body  maj'  need,  I  com- 
mit into  Thy  hands,  most  wise  and  gracious  Father,  as  long  as  I  do 
not  know  what  may  be  good  for  me,  or  those  whom  I  love,  and  will, 
therefore,  pray  just  as  Thou  wilt  make  it  known  at  the  time.  Only 
this  I  beseech  out  of  Thy  great  mercy,  that  Thou  wilt  convert  me 
whollj'  unto  Thyself,  and  when  I  obtain  Thee,  suffer  me  to  be  noth- 
ing else,  and  grant  also,  that,  as  long  as  I  live  and  bear  about  this 
body,  I  may  be  pure  and  magnanimous,  just  and  wise,  filled  with 
love  and  the  knowledge  of  Thy  wisdom,  and  worthy  of  an  entrance 
into  Thy  blessed  kingdom." 

There  are  iew  traces  of  a  specific  cliurclily  cliaracter  in 
these  writings.  They  exhibit  rather  a  Platonisin  full  of 
high  thoughts,  ideal  views,  and  subtle  dialectics,  in- 
formed and  hallowed  by  the  spirit  of  Christianity. 
]\Iany  things  were  retracted  by  him  at  a  later  pei'iod — 
e.g.,  the  Platonic  opinion  that  the  human  soul  had  a  pre- 
existence  before  its  present  life,  and  that  the  learning  of 
a  science  is  a  restoration  of  it  to  memory,  a  disinterment, 
so  to  speak,  of  knowledge  already  existing,  but  covered 
ov^er  in  the  mind.  He  had  yet  many  steps  to  take  before 
reaching  the  depth  and  clearness  of  Christian  knowledge 
which  distinguished  his  later  writings,  and  before  the 
new  life  obtained  full  mastery  within. 

After  his  conversion,  he  did  indeed  abandon  unlawful 
sexual  intercourse.  But  now  the  pictures  of  his  former 
sensual  indulgence  not  seldom  troubled  his  fancy  in 
dreams.  This  he  regarded  as  sin,  and  reproached  him- 
self bitterly.  "  Am  I,"  he  cried  out — "  am  I  not  then 
dreaming  what  I  am,  O  Lord,  my  God  ?     Is  not  Thj 


66  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

mighty  hand  able  to  purge  all  the  weakness  of  my  soul, 
and  frighten  away  with  more  abundant  grace  the  con- 
cupiscence of  my  dreams  ?  Yea,  Thou  wilt  grant  unto 
me  more  and  more  Thy  gifts,  that  my  soul  may  follow 
Thee  and  be  with  Thee  even  in  dreams  fall  of  purity  ; 
Thou,  who  art  able  to  do  more  than  we  can  ask  or  under- 
stand." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


AUGUSTIN  S  BAPTISM. 


Ijst  the  beginning  of  the  year  387  he  returned  to  Milan, 
and  along  with  his  preparation  for  baptism  kept  up  his 
literary  activity.  lie  wished  to  portray  the  different 
steps  of  human  knowledge  by  which  he  himself  had 
been  gradually  led  to  absolute  knowledge,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  leading  others  to  the  sanctuary,  and  wrote  works 
on  grammar,  logic,  rhetoric,  geometry,  arithmetic,  phi- 
losophy, music,  and  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  of 
which  only  the  last  two  were  completed  and  have  come 
down  to  us."" 

Meanwhile  the  wished-for  hour  of  baptism  arrived. 
On  Easter  Sabbath  of  this  year  he  received,  at  the  hands 
of  the  venerable  Ambrose,  this  holy  sacrament,  in  com- 
pany with  liis  friend  Alypius,  who,  as  he  says,  always 
differed  from  him  for  the  better,  and  with  his  son  Adeo- 
datus,  who  was  now  fifteen  years  of  age,  and,  preserved 

*  The  book  on  grammar  and  the  principles  of  logic  and  rhetoric  in 
the  first  volume  of  the  Benedictine  edition  of  Angiistin's  works  is 
spurious,  because  it  lacks  the  form  of  dialogue  and  the  higher  bear- 
ing which  he  gave  to  his  writings  on  these  subjects. 


augustin's  baptism.  67 

from  the  evil  courses  of  Lis  father,  had  surrendered  to 
the  Lord  liis  youthful  soul,  with  all  its  rare  endowments. 

This  solemn  act  and  the  succeeding  festivals  of  Easter 
and  Whitsuntide,  in  which  the  Church  entered  her  spirit- 
ual spring,  and  basked  in  the  warm  sunlight  of  a  Saviour 
risen  from  the  dead  and  eternally  present  by  his  Spirit, 
made  the  deepest  impression  upon  Augustin. 

The  solemnity  of  this  festival  was  still  further  height- 
ened by  two  circumstances — one  connected  with  super- 
stition and  relic-worship,  the  other  w^ith  the  effect  of 
hymns  upon  the  heart. 

The  first  was  the  miraculous  discovery  of  the  long- 
concealed  relics  of  the  traditional  protomartyrs  of  Milan, 
Protasius  and  Gervasius — two  otherwise  unknown  Roman 
citizens  and  missionaries — who  were  believed  to  have 
been  beheaded  in  the  persecution  of  l^ero  or  Domitiau. 
These  relics  were  conveyed  into  the  Ambrosian  Basilica, 
and,  according  to  the  current  belief  of  that  credulous 
age,  wrought  there  an  astonishing  miracle  in  support  of 
Nicene  orthodoxy  against  the  Arian  heresy.* 


*  Confess.  IX.  7  :  "  Then  didst  Thou,  by  a  vision,  discover  to  Thy 
forenamed  bishop  [Ambrose]  where  the  bodies  of  Gervasius  and 
Protasius,  the  martyrs,  lay  hid  (whom  Thou  hadst  in  Thy  secret  treas- 
ury stored  uncorrupted  so  many  years),  whence  Thou  mightest  sea- 
sonably produce  them  to  repress  the  fury  of  a  woman,  but  an  Em- 
press [Justina]."  TTien  Augustin  relates  the  healing  of  demoniacs 
and  of  a  blind  man  by  the  touch  of  the  relics.  He  again  refers  to 
this  noted  miracle,  in  De,  Civ.  Dei  xsii.  8,  as  having  occurred  in  the 
presence  of  an  immense  multitude.  Ambrose  explained  it  at  length 
in  a  sermon,  wherein  he  said  that  the  Arians  admitted  the  fact  of 
healing,  but  denied  the  cause.  Comp.  his  letter  to  his  sister,  Mar- 
cellina,  Ep.  xxii.  (al.  LIV.).  These  are  the  two  authorities  for  the 
legend  of  the  protomartyrs  of  Milan.  The  subject  of  post-apostolic 
miracles  is  involved  in  inextricable  difficulties.  Augustin  himself  is 
not  consistent  in  this  matter.  See  his  opinions  in  SchafE's  Church 
History,  vol.  iii.,  459  sqq. 


68  SAINT   AUGUSTIlSr. 

Just  then,  also,  Ambrose  had  transplanted  the  Clinrch- 
hymns  of  the  East  into  his  congregation,  and  had  added 
to  them,  as  the  father  of  Latin  hymnody,  productions  of 
his  own,  conceived  and  executed  in  a  noble,  liturgical 
style.  "I  could  not,"  says  Augustin,  "  satiate  myself 
in  those  days  with  the  wonderful  delight  of  meditating 
on  the  dej)th  of  Thy  divine  counsel  in  the  salvation  of 
the  human  race.  How  did  I  weep  amid  Thy  hymns  and 
chants,  powerfully  moved  by  the  sweetly-sounding  voice 
of  Thy  Church  !  Those  tones  poured  into  my  ear  ;  the 
truth  dropped  into  my  heart,  and  kindled  there  the  lire 
of  devotion  ;  tears  ran  down  my  cheeks  in  the  fulness 
of  my  joy  !"  * 

As  is  well  known,  Ambrose  gets  credit  as  the  author 
of  the  magnificent  anthem,  Te  Deum  laudamus,  which 
is  worthy  of  a  place  among  David's  Psalms  of  thanks- 
giving. A  mediaeval  tradition  says  that  it  was  composed 
by  Ambrose  and  Augustin  jointly,  during  the  baptism  of 
the  latter,  as  if  by  inspiration  from  above,  each  singing 
in  resjDonse,  verse  after  verse.  But  neither  Ambrose  nor 
Augustin  alludes  to  it  anywhere.  The  Te  Deum  is  of 
much  later  date  (the  sixth  century),  though  several  lines 
can  be  traced  to  an  older  Greek  original. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

monnica's  last  days  and  death. 

Soon  after  his  baptism,  in  the  summer  of  the  year 
387,  he  entered  on  his  homeward  journey  to  Africa,  in 
company  with  his  relatives  and  friends,  in  order  to  con- 

*  Covfess.  IX.  6. 


monnica's  last  days  and  death.  69 

tiniic  there  the  life  of  divine  contemplation  already 
begun  in  Cassiciacuni.  Among  them  was  Evodins  of 
Tagaste,  a  cultivated  man,  wlio  was  baptized  a  short  time 
before,  and  now  forsook  the  service  of  the  Emperor  to 
live  in  like  manner  exclusively  for  the  higher  ^,6rld. 

Already  had  they  reached  Ostia  at  the  month  of  the 
Tiber,  about  a  day's  journey  from  liome  ;  already  had 
they  made  the  necessnry  preparations  for  embarking, 
when  the  sudden  death  of  Monnica  frustrated  the  plan. 
The  faithful  soul  had  now  experienced  the  highest  joy 
for  which  she  had  wished  to  live — she  had  seen  the 
Saviour  in  the  heart  of  her  son,  and  could,  like  Hannah 
and  Simeon  of  old,  depart  in  peace  to  that  true  home 
which  is  more  beautiful  and  sweeter  far  than  Africa. 

One  day  Augustin  sat  with  his  mother  at  a  garden- 
window  in  Ostia,  and  conversed  with  her  about  the  rest 
of  eternity  and  its  holy  pleasures,  which  no  eye  has  seen 
and  no  ear  heard,  but  which  God  has  prepared  for  them 
that  love  Him.     Let  us  listen  to  his  own  narrative  : 

"  Forgetting  the  past,  and  looking  only  toward  the 
future,  we  asked  ourselves,  in  the  presence  of  the  Truth, 
which  Thou  art,  what  the  eternal  life  of  the  saints  will 
be.  And  we  opened  longingly  the  mouths  of  our  hearts 
to  receive  the  celestial  overflowings  of  Thy  fountain,  the 
fountain  of  life,  that  is  with  Thee,  that  being  bedewed 
from  it  according  to  our  capacity,  we  might  meditate 
carefully  upon  this  solemn  subject.  When  now  our  dis- 
course had  reached  that  point,  tlmt  no  pleasure  of  corpo- 
real sense,  regarded  in  what  brilliant  light  soever,  durst 
for  a  moment  be  named  with  the  glory  of  that  life,  much 
less  compared  with  it,  we  mounted  upward  in  ardent 
longing,  and  wandered  step  by  step  through  all  the  mate- 
rial universe — the  heavens,  from  which  sun,  moon,  and 
stars  beam  down   upon   the   earth.     And   we  rose  yet 


70  SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 

higher  in  inward  thought,  discourse,  and  admiration  of 
Thy  wonderful  works,  and  on  the  wings  of  the  spirit  we 
rose  above  these  also,  in  order  to  reach  yon  sphere  of 
inexhaustible  fulness,  where  Thou  dost  feed  Israel  to  all 
eternity  upon  the  pastures  of  Truth,  where  life  is,  and 
Truth  by  which  all  was  made,  that  was  there  and  will 
be.  But  truth  itself  was  not  made  ;  it  is  as  it  was  and 
always  will  be  ;  for  to  have  heen  and  to  he  are  not  in  it, 
but  heing,  because  it  is  eternal.  For  to  have  heen  and  to 
he  are  not  eternal.  While  we  were  thus  talking  and  de- 
siring, we  touched  it  gently  in  full  rapture  of  heart,  and 
left  bound  there  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  and  turned 
again  to  the  sound  of  our  lips,  where  the  word  begins 
and  ends.  And  what  is  like  Thy  Word,  our  Lord,  who 
remains  unchanged  in  Himself,  and  renews  all  ?  We 
spake  thus  :  If  the  tumult  of  the  flesh  were  silent,  and 
the  images  of  earth,  sea,  and  air  were  silent,  and  the 
poles  were  silent,  and  the  soul  itself  were  silent,  trans- 
cending its  own  thoughts  ;  if  dreams  and  the  revelations 
of  fancy,  and  every  language,  and  every  sign,  and  every- 
thing represented  by  them  were  silent ;  if  all  were  silent, 
for  to  him  who  hears,  all  these  say,  Ave  have  not  made 
ourselves,  but  He  who  made  us  dwells  in  eternity  ;  if, 
at  this  call,  they  were  now  silent,  with  ear  uplifted  to 
their  Creator,  and  He  should  speak  alone,  not  by  them, 
but  unmediated,  so  that  we  heard  Jlis  own  Word,  not 
through  a  tongue  of  flesh,  not  through  the  voice  of  an 
angel,  not  through  the  roar  of  thunder,  not  through  the 
dark  outlines  of  a  similitude,  but  from  Himself,  whom 
we  love  in  them,  and  whom,  without  them,  we  heard  as 
we  now  mounted,  and  witli  the  rapid  flight  of  thought 
touched  the  eternal  truth  that  lies  beyond  them  all  ;  if 
this  contemplation  should  continue,  and  no  other  foreign 
visions  mingle  with  it,  and  if  this  alone  should  take  hold 


MON]SfICA  S    LAST    DAYS   AND    DEATH.  71 

of,  and  absorb,  and  wrap  up  its  beholder  in  more  inward 
joys,  and  such  a  life  as  that  of  which,  now  recovering 
onr  breath,  we  have  had  a  momentary  taste,  were  to  last 
forever,  would  not  then  the  saying,  '  Enter  into  the  joy 
of  your  Lord,'  be  fulfilled  ?' ' 

In  the  presentiment  that  she  would  soon  enter  into  the 
joy  of  her  Lord,  Monnica,  struck  by  the  inspired  words 
of  her  son,  said  :  "  Son,  what  has  befallen  me  ?  Koth- 
ing  has  any  more  charms  for  me  in  this  life.  What  I 
am  yet  to  do  here,  and  why  I  am  here,  I  do  not  know, 
every  hope  of  this  world  being  now  consumed.  Once 
there  was  a  reason  why  I  should  wish  to  live  longer,  that  1 
might  see  you  a  believing  Christian  *  before  I  die.  God 
has  now  richly  granted  me  this  beyond  measure,  in  per- 
mitting me  to  see  you  in  His  service,  having  totally 
abandoned  the  world.     Wliat  yet  have  I  to  do  here  ?" 

Ary  Scheffer,  the  Frencli  painter,  of  the  romantic 
school,  has  fixed  on  this  sublime  moment  of  elevation  to 
the  beatific  vision  for  his  famous  and  beautiful,  though 
somewhat  sentimental  picture  of  Monnica  and  her  son. 

"  Together  'neath  the  Italian  heaven 
They  sit,  the  mother  and  her  son, 
He  late  from  her  by  errors  riven. 
Now  both  in  Jesns  one  : 
The  dear  consenting  hands  are  knit. 
And  either  face,  as  there  they  sit, 
Is  lifted  as  to  something  seen 
Beyond  the  blue  serene." 

Five  or  six  days  after  this  conversation  and  foretaste 
of  the  eternal  Sabbath-rest  of  tlie  saints,  the  pious 
mother  was  attacked  bv  a  fever,  which  in  a  short  time 


*  Or  more  strictly,  after  the  original,  Confess.  IX.  10,  Chrislianum 
caiholicum,  "  a  Catholic  (or  orthodox)  Christian,"  in  distinction  not 
merely  from  a  Pagnnus,  but  also  and  particularly  from  a  Christianus 
hcertticus  and  schismaticus,  which  Augustin  had  formerly  been. 


72  SAINT    AUGUSTIN". 

exhausted  ber  vital  powers.  Her  two  sons  were  contin- 
ually at.  lier  bedside.  Augustin  was  now  indeed  more 
tban  ever  bowed  down  with  grief  that  he  had  caused  her 
so  manj  tears  and  pains,  and  sought,  by  the  last  tender 
offices  of  love,  to  make  as  much  amends  as  possible. 
Monnica  read  his  heart,  and  assured  him  with  tender 
affection  that  he  had  never  spoken  an  unkind  word  to 
her.  Before,  it  had  always  been  her  wish  to  die  at 
home  and  rest  beside  the  grave  of  her  husband.  But 
now  this  natural  wish  was  merged  into  loftier  resignation 
to  the  will  of  God  :  "  Bury  my  body  somewhere  here," 
said  she,  "  and  do  not  concern  yourselves  on  its  account ; 
only  this  I  beg  of  you,  that  you  will  be  mindful  of  me 
at  the  altar  of  God,  where  you  will  be."  *  To  the  ques- 
tion, whether  it  would  not  be  terrible  to  her  to  be  buried 
so  far  from  her  fatherland,  she  replied  :  "  ^Nothing  is  far 
from  God  ;  and  there  is  no  fear  that  He  will  not  know 
at  the  end  of  time  where  to  raise  me  up." 

Thus,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  her  age,  on  the  ninth 
day  of  her  sickness,  this  noble- hearted  woman  expired  in 
the  arms  of  her  son,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  on  the 
shore  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  which  separated  Italy 
from  the  land  of  her  birth.  Yet,  long  after  her  death, 
has  she  consoled  and  comforted  thousands  of  anxious 
mothers  and  encouraged  them  in  patient  waiting  and 
perseverance  in  prayer.  Her  memory  remains  forever 
dear  and  blessed  to  the  Christian  world,  f 

*  Confess.  IX.  11  :  "  Tantum  illud  vos  rogo,  ut  ad  Domini  aliare  meml- 
nerilis  mei,  uhifuerilis."  This  thanksgiving  and  praj'er  for  the  dead 
can  be  traced,  in  its  innocent  form,  as  far  back  as  the  second  cen- 
tury, and  became  the  fruitful  germ  of  the  doctrine  of  purgatory. 
Neither  Monnica  nor  Augustin  grasped  the  full  meaning  of  St.  Paul's 
assurance  that  it  is  "  very  far  better  to  bo  with  Christ  "  (Phil.  i.  23). 

I  In  an  epitaph  of  Bassus,  ex-Consul,  dating  from  the  early  part  of 
the  fifth  century,  Monnica  is  addressed  as  "  Mother  of  Virtues,"  and 


monnica's  last  days  and  death.  73 

Adeodatus  cried  aloud.  Augiistin  himself  could 
scarcely  restrain  by  force  the  gush  of  tears  and  quiet  the 
overpowering  feelings  of  grief  which  were  rushing  into 
his  heart.  He  believed  it  was  not  becoming  "  to  honor 
such  a  corpse  with  the  tearful  wailings  and  groans  which 
are  usually  given  to  those  who  die  a  miserable — yea,  an 
eternal  death. "  For  his  mother  had  not  died  miserably  : 
she  had  merely  entered  into  the  joy  of  her  Lord.  When 
the  weeping  had  subsided,  his  friend  Evodius  took  up 
the  psalter  :  "I  will  sing  of  mercy  and  judgment  ;  unto 
Thee,  O  Lord,  will  1  sing"  (Ps.  ci.  1)  ;  and  the  whole 
house  joined  in  the  response. 

After  the  corpse  had  been  buried,  and  the  holy  Sup- 
2)er  celebrated  on  the  grave,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  age,  in  the  consciousness  of  a  communion  of  saints 
uninterrupted  by  death,  Augustin,  iinding  himself  at 
home  alone  with  his  God,  gave  his  tears  free  vent,  and 
wept  sorely  and  long  over  her  who  had  shed  so  many 
tears  of  maternal  love  and  solicitude  on  his  account.  But 
he  begs  his  readers  to  fulfil  the  last  wish  of  his  mother, 
and  remember  her  at  the  altar  of  the  Lord  with  thanks- 
giving and  i^rayer.  "  In  this  transitory  life  let  them  re- 
member my  parents  with  pious  affection,  and  my  broth- 
ers, who,  under  Thee,  the  Father,  are  children  in  the 
mother,  the  Catholic  Church,  and  my  fellow-citizens  in 
the   heavenly  Jerusalem,  after  Vvdiich  Thy  people  sigh 

Augustin  as  her  yet  "  happier  offspring."  This  shows  the  early  rev- 
erence paid  to  her  memory.  See  the  epitaph  in  Brieger's  "  Zeit- 
schrift  fiir  Kirchengeschichte,"  vol.  1,  p.  228.  Monnica  is  a  saint  in 
the  lloman  calendar,  April  4  {Sancfa  Mmnica  vidua).  Her  bones 
were  translated  from  Ostia  to  Kome  in  1430  under  Pope  Martin  V., 
and  deposited  in  a  chapel  dedicated  to  Augustin.  She  often  appears 
in  medieval  jDictures  ;  especially  famous  is  Ary  Scheff er's  St.  Augustin 
et  sa  mere  Ste.  Monique  (1845).  It  is  in  the  same  style  as  his  Dante 
and  Beatrice. 


74  SAINT   AUQUSTIN. 

from  tlie  beginning  to  the  end  of  their  pilgrimage,  so 
that  what  she  asked  of  me  in  her  last  moments  may  be 
more  abundantly  fulfilled  to  her  by  the  prayers  and  con- 
fessions of  many,  than  by  my  prayers  alone."  * 

These  words  are  taken  from  the  conclusion  of  the  his- 
torical part  of  the  Confessions,  in  which  Angustin,  with 
the  rarest  candor  and  in  a  spirit  of  the  severest  self-criti- 
cism and  unfeigned  humility,  in  presence  of  the  whole 
world,  acknowledges  to  God  his  sins  and  errors,  and 
praises,  with  devout  gratitude,  the  wonderful  hand 
which,  even  in  his  widest  wanderings,  guided  him,  took 
hold  of  him,  in  the  anxiety  and  prayers  of  his  mother, 
in  the  better  inclinations  of  his  heart,  in  his  internal  con- 
flicts, his  increasing  discontent,  and  his  pining  after  God, 
and  led  him  at  last,  after  many  storms,  into  the  haven  of 
faith  and  peace.  In  this  autobiography  we  behold  the 
great  Church-doctor  of  all  ages  "  lying  in  the  dust  of 
humility  in  converse  with  God  and  basking  in  the  sun- 
light of  His  iove,  his  readers  only  sweeping  before  him 
like  shadows."  He  takes  all  his  glory,  all  his  greatness, 
all  his  culture,  and  lays  them  devoutly  at  the  feet  of  free 
grace.  His  deepest  feeling  is — "  All  that  is  good  in  me 
is  Thy  ordering  and  Thy  gift  ;  all  that  is  evil  is  my  guilt 
and  my  judgment, "  Ko  motive,  drawn  from  anything 
without,  prompted  him  to  this  public  confession.  It 
sprang  from  the  innermost  impulse  of  his  soul.  "  1  be- 
lieve," says  he,  "  and  therefore  I  speak,  as  Thou,  Lord, 
knowest.  Have  I  not  confessed  my  guilt  before  Thee, 
and  hast  Thou  not  forgiv^en  the  sins  of  my  soul  ?  Never 
will  I  excuse  or  justify  myself  before  Thee,  who  art 
Truth  itself  ;  no,  I  will  not  justify  myself  before  Thee  ; 
for  if  Thou  art  strict  to  mark  iniquity,  who  can  stand  ?" 


*  Confess.  IX.  13,  conclusion. 


SECOND   VISIT   TO    ROME,   AND    RETURN   TO    AFRICA.     75 

Most  toncliing  is  liis  sad  complaint  that  he  was  converted 
to  the  Lord  so  late  in  life,  since  one  single  hour  of  com- 
munion with  Him  is  worth  mere  than  all  the  joys  of  the 
world  besides.  "  1  have  lov^ed  Thee  late,  whose  beauty 
is  as  old  as  eternity,  and  yet  so  new  ;  I  have  lov^ed  Thee 
late.  And  lo  !  Thou  wert  within,  but  I  was  without, 
and  sought  Thee  there.  And  amid  Thy  beautiful  crea- 
tion 1  covered  myself  with  loathsomeness,  for  Thou  wert 
with  me,  and  I  not  in  Thee.  The  external  world  held  me 
far  from  Thee,  though  it  were  not,  if  I  were  not  in  Thee. 
Thou  didst  call  loud  and  louder,  and  break  through  my 
deafness  ;  Thou  didst  beam  down  bright  and  brighter, 
and  overcome  my  blindness  ;  Thou  didst  breathe,  and  I 
recovered  breath  and  life  again,  and  breathed  in  Thee. 
I  would  taste  Thee,  and  hungered  and  thirsted.  Thou 
didst  touch  me,  and,  burning,  1  longed  after  Thy  peace. 
If  ever  1  may  live  in  Thee,  with  all  that  is  in  me,  then 
will  pain  and  trouble  leave  me  ;  filled  wholly  with  Thee, 
all  within  me  will  be  life." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SECOND   VISIT   TO   ROME,  AND    RETURN   TO    AFRICA. 

In  consequence  of  the  death  of  his  mother  Augustin 
changed  his  plan  of  travel,  and  went,  first  of  all,  with 
his  company  to  Eome,  where  he  remained  ten  months. 

During  this  time  he  publicly  attacked  his  former 
friends,  the  Manich^eans.  He  was  better  fitted  than  any 
one  of  his  contemporaries  for  confuting  their  errors. 
"I  could  not,"  says  he,  in  his  Retractions,  "  bear  in 


76  S.\INT  AUGUSTIN. 

silence  tliat  the  Manicliseans  should  delude  the  ignorant, 
through  boasting,  by  their  false,  decej^tive  abstemious- 
ness and  moderation  ;  and  elevate  themselves  even  above 
true  Christians,  with  whom  they  are  not  worthy  to  be 
compared  ;  and  so  1  wrote  two  books,  the  one  on  the 
Morals  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  other  on  the  Morals 
of  the  Manicliseans," 

Toward  autumn  of  the  year  388,  he  sailed  to  Africa, 
and,  after  a  transient  stay  in  Carthage  with  his  friend 
Innocentius,  a  godly  man,  who  had  just  then  been  deliv- 
ered by  prayer  from  a  dangerous  sickness,  he  proceeded 
to  a  country-seat  near  Tagaste,  which,  along  with  other 
real  estate,  he  had  inherited  from  his  father.  In  literal 
obedience  to  the  command  of  Christ  to  the  rich  young 
man  (Matt,  xix,  21),  and  in  imitation  of  the  example  of 
many  saints  of  previous  ages,  he  sold  his  possessions  and 
gave  the  proceeds  to  the  poor,  retaining,  as  it  appears, 
his  dwelling  and  the  necessary  means  of  subsistence. 

Here  he  lived  with  his  friends  three  years  in  a  com- 
plete community  of  goods,  retired  from  the  world,  in 
prayer,  study,  and  meditation,  lie  was,  however,  fre- 
quently interru])ted  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  asking 
counsel  about  their  spiritual  and  temporal  affairs,  ]^u- 
merous  philosophical,  polemical,  and  theological  writings 
are  the  fruits  of  this  sojourn  in  the  country. 

In  the  year  391  Augustin  was  called  by  an  imperial 
commissioner  to  the  Numidian  seaport,  Hippo  Regius, 
the  Bona  of  our  time.  Pie  is  yet  known  among  the 
natives  of  that  place  as  "  The  Great  Christian"  (Rumi 
Kebir),  Hippo  was  destroj-ed  by  the  Yandals  soon  after 
Augustin 's  death.  Since  the  French  conquest  of  Al- 
giers it  was  rebuilt,  and  is  now  one  of  the  finest  towns  in 
North  Africa,  numbering  over  ten  thousand  inhabitants — 
French,  Moors,  and   Jews.     A   monument  was  erected 


AUGUSTIN   PRIEST   AND   BISHOP  OF   HIPPO.  77 

to  Angnstin,  his  bronze  statue  on  a  pedestal  of  white 
marble.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill  is  a  large  Catholic 
charitable  institution,  where  possibly  may  hav'c  been  his 
garden,  from  which,  looking  out  to  the  sea  and  up  to 
heaven,  he  mused  on  "  the  City  of  God." 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

AUGUSTIN    PEIEST   AND   BISHOP    OF    HIPPO. 

Haying  arrived  at  Hippo,  he  was  forced  into  public 
office  against  his  will.  For,  on  one  occasion,  as  he  was 
listening  to  a  sermon  of  the  Bishop  Yalerius,  a  native  of 
Greece,  and  the  latter  remarked  that  the  congregation 
needed  a  priest,  the  people  cried  out  for  Augustin. 

He  was  amazed,  and  burst  into  tears,  for  he  did  not 
wish  to  give  up  his  peaceful,  ascetic  and  literary  retire- 
ment, and  did  not  consider  himself  qualified  for  the  re- 
sponsible station.  He  followed,  however,  the  guidance  of 
that  Hand  which  drew  him,  as  it  does  every  true  reform- 
er, into  the  arena  of  public  life  against  his  own  inclination. 
He  only  begged  for  some  months  to  prepare  for  the  solemn 
office,  and  assumed  its  duties  on  Easter  of  the  year  392. 

His  relation  to  the  bishop  was  very  pleasant.  Yalerius 
acknowledged  the  decided  intellectual  superiority  of 
Augustin,  and,  without  envy,  gave  it  free  play  for  the 
public  good.  He  allowed  him  to  preach  frequently, 
contrary  to  the  usual  custom  of  the  African  bishops,  who 
granted  this  privilege  to  the  priests  only  during  their 
absence.  Soon  after  he  made  him  an  associate,  with  the 
consent  of  the  Bishop  of  Carthage.     But  when  Augustin 


78  SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 

learned  the  existence  of  a  decree  of  the  Council  of  Nicsea, 
forbidding  two  bishops  in  one  congregation,  he  had  a 
resolution  passed  by  a  Synod  of  Carthage  that,  in  order 
to  prevent  similar  irregularities,  the  Church  canons 
should  be  read  by  every  clergyman  before  ordination. 

In  the  year  395,  Valerius  died,  and  Augustin  was  now 
sole  Bishop  of  Hippo,  and  remained  so  till  the  day  of  his 
death.  He  says  in  one  of  his  Epistles  :  "  So  exceed- 
ingly did  I  dread  the  episcopate  that,  because  my  reputa- 
tion had  now  begun  to  be  of  some  account  among  the 
servants  of  God,  I  would  not  go  to  any  placfe  where  I 
knew  there  was  no  bishop.  I  did  what  I  could  that  in  a 
low  place  I  might  be  saved,  lest  in  a  high  one  I  should  be 
perilled.  But  the  servant  must  not  oppose  his  Master. 
I  came  to  this  city  to  see  a  friend  whom  I  thought  1 
might  gain  to  God,  that  he  might  live  with  us  in  the 
monastery  ;  I  came  as  being  safe,  the  place  having  a 
bishop  already.  I  was  laid  hold  of,  made  a  presbyter, 
and  by  this  step  came  to  the  episcopate." 

In  this  position  he  was  now  to  unfold,  during  a  period 
of  thirty-eight  successive  years,  first  as  priest,  and  then 
as  bishop,  the  rich  treasures  of  his  genius  for  the  benefit 
of  the  congregation,  and  the  whole  Church  in  his  age  and 
all  coming  centuries.  He  was  indispensable.  Difficul- 
ties of  deep  and  universal  importance  were  arising,  with 
which  he  alone  was  fitted  to  cope. 

Erasmus  complains  that  the  powers  of  Augustin  were 
wasted  upon  Africa,  and  thinks  that  he  might  have  pro- 
duced still  nobler  fruits  in  Italy  or  Gaul.  He  was  mis- 
taken. Africa  presented  at  the  time  a  strange  mixture 
of  native  barbarism,  imported  civilization  of  the  Ro- 
mans, Christianity,  and  lingering  heathenism,  not  unlike 
the  present  aspect  of  French  Algiers  or  British  East 
India.     Araspices  still  offered  sacrifices.     Riotous  feasts 


augustin's  domestic  life.  79 

of  heatlien  idols  were  nominally  changed  into  services  in 
honor  of  Christian  martyrs.  The  Christian  forces  were 
divided.  The  Donastist  Schismatics  were  almost  as  nu- 
merous as  the  Catholics,  and  tlie  ManichfEan  heretics,  not 
to  mention  smaller  sects,  were  spread  over  all  the  cities. 
It  was  no  rare  thing  to  find  even  in  a  smaller  town  three 
rival  bishops — Catholic,  Donatist,  and  Manichsean.  But 
it  was  just  in  conflict  with  these  antagonistic  elements 
that  Augustin's  genius  developed  its  resources  ;  and  in 
contrast  with  the  surrounding  vices  and  signs  of  approach- 
ing decay  his  virtue  and  piety  shine  with  the  greater 
lustre.  Such  a  man  belongs  to  the  world  at  large  and 
to  all  ages. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

augustin's  domestic  life. 

"We  will  now  first  glance  at  Augustin's  private  life, 
then  consider  him  as  bishop,  and  lastly  exhibit  his  public 
activity  in  the  Church  and  the  world  of  letters,  and  its 
influence  upon  succeeding  generations. 

His  mode  of  living  was  very  simjjle,  and  bore  that 
ascetic  character  which  accords  rather  with  the  genius  of 
Catholicism  than  of  Protestantism  ;  but  it  was  also  free 
from  narrow  bigotry  and  Pharisaical  self-righteousness, 
which  connect  themselves  so  readily  with  monastic  piety. 

He  dwelt  with  his  clergy  in  one  house,  and  strove  with 
them  to  copy  after  the  first  community  of  Christians 
(Acts  iv.  81).  All  things  were  common  :  no  one  had 
more  than  another  ;  even  he  himself  was  never  pre- 
ferred.    God  and  His  Church  were  enough  for  them. 


80  SAINT    AUGUSTIN. 

Whoever  would  not  consent  to  this  was  not  admitted  into 
his  clerical  body. 

lie  was  extremely  sparing  in  his  diet,  and  lived  mostly 
on  herbs  and  pulse.  After  the  custom  of  those  coun- 
tries, wine  was  placed  before  all,  a  certain  measure  to 
each,  yet  of  course  further  indulgence  was  severely  re- 
buked. While  they  sat  at  tal)le  a  passage  from  some 
good  book  was  read  aloud,  or  they  conversed  freely  to- 
gether, but  were  never  allowed  to  attack  the  character 
of  any  one  who  was  absent.  Augnstin  enforced  the  ob- 
servance of  this  rule  of  brotherly  love  very  strictly.  His 
clothing  and  house  furniture  were  decent,  without  show 
or  luxury.  He  was  particularly  prudent  in  regard  to  the 
female  sex,  for  he  permitted  no  woman,  not  even  his 
nearest  relative,  to  live  in  the  episcopal  house,  Nor 
did  he  trust  himself  to  enter  into  conversation  with  any, 
except  in  the  presence  of  an  ecclesiastic.  Personally  he 
preferred,  like  St.  Paul  and  most  of  the  Fathers,  the  un- 
married estate  (1  Cor.  vii,  1,  7,  8).  In  this  he  must  be 
judged  by  the  ascetic  standard  of  the  early  Church, 
which,  in  opposition  to  heathen  immorality,  went  to  the 
opposite  extreme  of  an  overestimate  of  virginity  as  a 
higher  form  of  virtue  than  chastity  in  married  life. 

He  also  estal)lished  a  kind  of  theological  seminary, 
where  candidates  could  prepare  themselves  in  a  practical 
as  well  as  theoretical  manner,  for  their  important  duties 
as  preachers  of  the  Gospel.  They  certainly  could  find  no 
better  instructor.  Already  as  a  priest  he  had  attracted 
to  Hippo  his  old  friends  Alypius  and  Evodius,  and  sev- 
eral new  ones,  among  whom  were  Possidius  and  Severus, 
for  the  prosecution  of  mutual  studies,  and  these  formed 
the  beginning  of  that  theological  nursery  out  of  which 
ten  bishops  and  many  inferior  clergy  went  forth  from 
time  to  time. 


ADMINISTRATION"    OF   THE   EPISCOPAL   OFFICE.  81 


CHAPTEE  XXllI. 

ADMINISTRATION    OF    THE    EPISCOPAL    OFFICE    AND    PUBLIC 
ACTIVITY. 

As  a  bishop,  Augustin  was  prc-eminentlj  faitlifiil  and 
conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  liis  manifold  duties. 
He  felt  deeply  the  solemn  responsibilities  of  the  spiritual 
calling.  "There  is  nothing,"  says  he,  "in  this  life, 
and  especially  in  this  age,  more  easy,  more  agreeable, 
and  more  acceptable  to  men  than  the  office  of  bishop  or 
presbyter  or  deacon,  if  its  duties  are  performed  at  pleas- 
ure and  in  a  time-serving  spirit  ;  but  in  the  eyes  of  God 
nothing  more  miserable,  more  sad,  more  damnable.  Like- 
wise, there  is  nothing  in  this  life,  and  especially  in  this 
age,  more  difficult,  more  laborious,  more  dangerous  than 
the  office  of  bishop  or  presbyter  or  deacon,  but  also  more 
blessed  before  God,  if  a  man  conducts  himself  therein  as 
a  true  soldier  under  the  banner  of  Christ."  * 

To  the  ministry  of  the  Word  he  applied  himself  dili- 
gently, preaching  often  five  days  in  succession,  and  on 
some  days  twice.  Whenever  he  found  time  he  j)repared 
himself  for  it.  When,  out  of  the  fulness  of  inspiration 
he  spoke  from  the  holy  place,  he  felt  that  human  lan- 
guage was  insufficient  to  express,  in  a  fit  and  lively  man- 


*  Ep.  21,  torn.  xi.  ed.  Bened.  Words  well  worthy  of  being  pon- 
dered  on  by  every  candidate  of  Theology.  "  Nihil  est  in  hacvita,et 
maxime  hoc  tempore,  facilius  et  laetius  et  homitiibus  acr.epiabilius  episcopi, 
ant  presbyteri,  aid  diaconi  officio,  si  perfnndorie  aique  adulalorie  res 
agatvr ;  sed  nihil  apvd  Deum  miserius  el  iristius  et  damnabilius.  Item 
nihil  est  in  hac  vita,  el  maxime  in  hoc  tempore,  difficiliits,  laboriosius,  per- 
iculosius  episcopi,  aid  presbyteri,  aid  diaconi  officio  ;  sed  apud  Deum  nihil 
beatius,  si  eo  modo  mililetur,  quo  nosier  iniperalor  jubtt." 


83  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

iier,  the  tlionglits  and  feelings  wliicli  streamed  through 
liis  soiil  with  the  speed  of  hghtning.  He  set  before  him 
as  the  aim  of  spiritual  oratory  to  preach  liimself  and  his 
hearers  into  Christ,  so  that  all  might  live  with  him  and 
he  with  all  in  Christ.  This  was  his  passion,  his  honor, 
his  boast,  his  joj,  his  riches. 

He  frequently  spent  w^iole  days  in  bringing  about  a 
reconciliation  between  parties  who  were  at  variance.  It 
was  irksome  to  a  man  of  his  contemplative  disposition, 
but  a  sense  of  duty  rendered  him  superior  to  the  dis- 
agreeable nature  of  the  occupation.  He  speaks  of  "  the 
perplexities  of  other  people's  differences  in  secular  mat- 
ters," which  he  was  asked  to  decide  or  to  adjust  by 
mediation  ;  and  alludes  to  "  innumerable  other  ecclesias- 
tical toils,  which  no  one  perhaps  believes  who  has  not 
tried."  Like  Ambrose,  he  often  interceded  with  the 
authorities  in  behalf  of  the  unfortunate,  and  procured 
for  them  either  justice  or  mercy.  He  took  the  poor 
under  his  special  care,  and  looked  upon  each  clergyman 
as  their  father.  Once,  when  he  observed  that  but  little 
was  cast  into  the  collection-boxes,  he  concluded  his  ser- 
mon with  the  words  :  "I  am  a  beggar  for  beggars,  and 
take  pleasure  in  being  so,  in  order  that  you  may  be  num- 
bered among  the  children  of  God."  Like  Ambrose,  he 
even  melted  up  the  vessels  of  the  sanctuary,  in  extreme 
cases,  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering  and  the  redemption 
of  the  prisoner.  Unlike  many  bishojis  of  his  time,  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  set  his  heart  upon  the  enrichment 
of  the  Church.  He  would  accept  no  legacy  where  in- 
justice w^ould  be  done  to  the  natural  heirs,  for  "the 
Church  desires  no  unrighteous  inheritance  ;"  and  there- 
fore he  praised  Bishop  Aurelius,  of  Carthage,  in  a  ser- 
mon, because  he  had  restored,  without  solicitation,  his 
entire  property  to  a  man  who  had  willed  it  to  the  Church, 


ADMINISTRATION    OF   THE   EPISCOPAL   OFFICE.  83 

and  whose  wife  had  afterward  unexpectedly  borne  hhn 
children. 

Along  with  his  seminary  for  the  clergy  he  also  estab- 
lished religious  societies  for  women.  Over  one  of  these 
his  sister,  a  godly  widow,  presided.  On  one  occasion  he 
assnred  his  congregation  that  he  could  not  easily  find 
better,  bnt  had  also  nowhere  fonnd  worse  people  than  in 
these  cloisters. 

But  the  activity  of  Angustin  extended  beyond  the 
limits  of  his  own  congregation,  and  reached  the  entire 
African — yea,  the  entire  Western  Church.  He  was  the 
leading  genins  of  the  African  Synods,  which  were  held 
toward  the  close  of  the  fourth  and  the  beginning  of  the 
fifth  century,  at  Carthage,  a.d.  397,  403,  411,  413,  419, 
and  in  other  places,  particularly  against  the  Donatists 
and  Pelagians.  He  took  the  liveliest  interest  in  all  the 
questions  which  were  then  agitated,  and  was  unwearied 
in  devoting  his  powers  to  the  general  good. 

The  Catholic  Church  had  at  that  time  three  great  ene- 
mies, who  threatened  to  deface  and  tear  her  in  pieces  at 
every  point,  and  had  even  forced  themselves  into  the 
congregation  of  Hippo.  These  were  Manichaeism,  Don- 
atism,  and  Pelagianism.  Augustin  was  their  great  oppo- 
nent and  final  conqueror.  The  whole  spiritual  power  of 
the  Latin  Church  concentrated  itself,  so  to  speak,  in 
him  for  the  overthrow  of  these  antagonists.  He  left  no 
lawful  means  unemployed  for  the  expulsion  of  the  evil. 
But  he  principally  fought  with  the  weapon  of  argument, 
and  wrote  a  large  number  of  works  which,  although  de- 
signed specially  for  the  necessities  and  circumstances  of 
the  time,  yet  contain  a  store  of  profound  truths  for  all 
ages. 


84  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 


CHAPTER.  XXIV. 

LAST   YEARS    AND    DEATH, 

In  his  latter  years  Angustin  cast  one  more  glance  be- 
hind upon  Ills  entire  literary  course,  and  in  liis  Retrac- 
tions subjected  it  to  a  severe  criticism.  His  writings 
against  the  Semi-Pelagians,  in  which  a  milder  and  more 
gentle  spirit  reigns,  belong  to  this  jjeriod.  Like  Luther 
and  Melanchtlion,  he  was  inclined  to  melancholy  with 
the  failure  of  his  bodily  strength.  This  was  increased  by 
much  bitter  experience,  and  the  heavy  misfortunes  which 
befell  his  fatherland. 

The  Yandal  king,  Genseric,  with  fifty  thousand  war- 
riors, among  whom  were  Goths  and  Alani,  in  May  of  the 
year  -±28,  crossed  over  from  Spain  to  Africa,  which  was 
now  filled  with  confusion  and  desolation.  These  barba- 
rians raged  more  fiercely  than  wild  beasts  of  prey,  re- 
duced towns  and  villages  to  ashes,  spared  no  age  or  sex, 
were  especially  severe  against  the  orthodox  clergy,  be- 
cause they  themselves  were  Arians,  and  changed  that 
beautiful  country  into  a  desert. 

Augustin  was  of  the  opinion  that  the  bishops  at  least 
should  stand  by  their  congregations  in  the  hour  of  need, 
that  the  bonds  which  the  love  of  Christ  had  knit  should 
not  be  rent  asunder,  and  that  they  should  endure  quietly 
whatever  God  might  send.  "  Whoever  flies,"  he  wrote 
to  Bishop  Quodvultdeus,  "  so  that  the  Church  is  not  de- 
prived of  the  necessary  ministrations,  he  does  what  God 
commands  or  permits.  But  whoever  so  flies  that  the 
flock  of  Christ  is  left  without  the  nourishment  by  which 
it  spiritually  lives,  he  is  an  hireling,  who,  seeing  the  wolf 
come,  flies  because  he  has  no  care  for  the  sheep." 


LAST   YEAKS   AND    DEATH.  85 

Boniface,  the  cominander-in-cliief  of  tlie  imperial 
forces  in  Africa,  who  was  friendly  to  Augustin,  though 
tlie  occasion  of  niucli  trouble  to  him,  was  beaten  by  the 
Yandals,  and  threw  himself  with  the  remnant  of  his  army 
into  the  fortified  city  of  Hippo,  where  Possidius  and 
several  other  bishops  had  taken  refuge.  Augustin  was 
sorely  oppressed  by  the  calamities  of  his  country  and  the 
destruction  of  divine  worship,  which  could  now  be  cele- 
brated only  in  the  strongholds  of  Carthage,  Cirta,  and 
Hippo.  At  table  he  once  expressed  himself  to  his  friends 
in  the  following  language  :  "  "What  I  pray  God  for  is 
that  He  will  deliver  this  city  from  the  enemy,  or  if  He 
has  determined  otherwise,  that  He  may  strengthen  His 
servant  for  his  sufferings,  or,  which  I  would  rather,  that 
He  will  call  me  from  this  world  to  Himself." 

The  last  wish  was  granted  him.  In  the  third  month 
of  the  siege  he  was  attacked  by  a  violent  fever,  and  ten 
days  before  his  death  he  withdrew  into  retirement,  after 
having,  up  till  that  time,  proclaimed  the  AVord  of  God 
to  his  congregation  without  interruption.  He  spent  this 
season  in  reading  the  penitential  psalms,  which  were  at- 
tached to  the  wall  by  his  bedside,  in  holy  meditations, 
tears,  prayers,  and  intercessions.  He  once  said  that  no 
one,  especially  no  priest,  ought  to  depart  this  life  with- 
out earnest  repentance,  and  wrote  concerning  himself  : 
"  I  will  not  cease  to  weep  until  He  comes,  and  I  appear 
before  Him,  and  these  tears  are  to  me  pleasant  nutri- 
ment. The  thirst  which  consumes  me,  and  incessantly 
draws  me  toward  yon  fountain  of  my  life — this  thirst  is 
always  more  burning  when  I  see  my  salvation  delayed. 
This  inextinguishaole  desire  carries  me  away  to  those 
streams,  as  well  amid  the  joys  as  amid  the  sorrows  of  this 
world.  Yea,  if  I  stand  well  with  the  world  I  am 
wretched  in  myself,  until  I  appear  before  God." 


86  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

On  the  28th  of  August,  430,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year 
of  his  age,  the  great  man  peacefully  departed  into  a  bhss- 
ful  eternity,  in  the  full  possession  of  his  faculties,  and  in 
the  presence  of  his  friends. 

He  left  no  will,  for,  having  embraced  voluntary  pov- 
erty, he  had  nothing  to  dispose  of,  except  his  books  and 
manuscripts,  which  he  bequeathed  to  the  Church. " 

Soon  after  Hippo  was  taken.  Henceforth  Africa  was 
lost  to  the  Romans,  and  vanished  from  the  arena  of 
Church  History.  The  culminating  point  of  the  spiritual 
greatness  of  the  African  Church  was  also  that  of  her 
ruin.  But  her  ripest  fruit,  the  spirit  and  the  theology  of 
Augustin,  could  not  perish.  It  fell  on  the  soil  of  Europe, 
where  it  has  produced  new  glorious  flowers  and  fruits, 
and  to  this  day  exerts  a  mighty  influence  in  Catholic  and 
Protestant  Christendom. 


CHAPTER  XXy. 


ADGUSTIN  S    WKITINGS. 


ArGUSTiN  is  the  most  fruitful  author  among  the  Latin 
Church-Fathers.  His  writings  are  almost  too  numerous. 
One  of  his  biographers  reckons  them,  including  about 
four  hundred  sermons  and  two  hundred  and  seventy  let- 
ters, at  ten  hundred  and  thirty.     Others  reduce  the  whole 


*  His  friend  and  biographer,  Possidins,  says,  Vit.  Aug.  c.  31  :  "  Tes- 
tamentum  nullum  fecit,  quia  unde  foceret,  pauper  Dei  non  habuit.  Ec- 
cksice  hibliothecam  omnesque  codices  diligenler  posteris  cxislodiendos  semper 
jubebaV 


augustin's  avritikgs.  ^  87 

number  to  two  Imndred  and  thirty-two,  and  the  larger 
ones  to  ninety-three.  They  fill  eleven  folio  volumes  in 
the  Benedictine  edition  of  Augustin's  works.* 

They  contain  his  views  in  every  department  of  theol- 
ogy, the  rare  treasures  of  his  mind  and  heart,  and  a  true 
expression  of  the  deepest  religious  and  churchly  move- 
ments of  his  age,  and  at  the  same  time  secured  an  im- 
measurable influence  upon  all  succeeding  generations, 
lie  wrote  out  of  the  abundance  of  his  heart,  not  to  ac- 
quire literary  fame,  but  moved  by  the  love  of  God  and 
man. 

In  point  of  learning  he  stands  far  behind  Origen,  Euse- 
bius,  and  Jerome  ;  but  in  originality,  depth,  and  wealth 
of  thought  he  surpasses  all  the  Greek  and  Latin  Fathers, 
lie  knew  no  Hebrew  and  very  little  Greek,  as  he  mod- 
estly confesses  himself. f  He  neglected  and  disliked  the 
noble  language  of  Hellas  in  his  yoath,  because  he  had  a 
bad  teacher,  and  was  forced  to  it.  But  after  his  conver- 
sion, during  his  second  residence  in  Rome,  he  resumed 
the  study  of  it,  and  acquired  a  sufiicient  elementary 
knowledge  to  compare  the  Latin  version  of  the  Script- 
ures with  the  Septuagint  and  the  Greek  Testament.:}: 


*  A  considerable  number  of  them  have  been  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, especially  the  Confessions,  the  City  of  God,  and  the  Homilies  on 
the  Psalms,  and  St.  John.  See  the  Oxford  "  Library  of  the  Fathers," 
1S37  sqq.,  and  Clark's  edition  of  the  "  Works  of  Aurelius  Augustine," 
ed.  by  Marcus  Dods,  D.D.,  Edinburgh  1871-1876,  15  vols.  8vo. 

t  "  Grcecce  linguas  perpnrum  assecidus  sum,  et  prope  nihil."  Contra 
Llieras  Petiliani  II.  38.  Comp.  De  Trinitate  III.  Proo^m. ;  Confess.  I. 
14  ;  YII.  9. 

1;.  He  gives  the  etymology  of  several  Greek  words,  as  aluviov, 
avddeua,  h/naivia,  /.ojoc,  etc.  ;  he  correctly  distinguishes  between 
yevvdv  and  riKrecv,  hTa<j)idl^Eiv  and  -dd-reiv,  tn'X'i  and  -pocEvx'i,  ~voi] 
and  TTVEv^ua.  He  amends  the  Itala  in  about  thirty  places  from  the 
Septuagint,  and  in  three  places  from  the  Greek  Testament  (John 


88  ,  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

Gibbon,  usually  very  accurate,  underestimates  him  wlien 
he  says  that  "  the  superficial  learning  of  Augustin  was 
confined  to  the  Latin  language,"  and  that  "  his  style, 
though  sometimes  animated  by  the  eloquence  of  passion, 
is  usually  clouded  by  false  and  affected  rhetoric."*  The 
judgment  of  Dr.  Baiir,  who  had  as  little  sympathy  with 
Augustin's  theology,  but  a  far  better  knowledge  of  it,  is 
more  just  and  correct  :  "  There  is  scarcely  another  theo- 
logical author  so  fertile  and  withal  so  able  as  Augustin. 
His  scholarship  was  certainly  not  equal  to  his  genius ; 
yet  even  that  is  sometimes  set  too  low,  when  it  is  asserted 
that  he  had  no  acquaintance  at  all  with  the  Greek  lan- 
guage ;  for  this  is  incorrect,  though  he  had  attained  no 
great  proficiency  in  Greek."  f 


viii.  25  ;  xviii.  37  ;  Rom.  i.  3).  He  also  corrects  Julian,  his  Pelagian 
antagonist,  by  going  back  to  the  Greek.  He  explains  the  Greek  mon- 
ogram Ix'&vg  (-De  Uiv.  Dei  xviii.  23).  He  mentions  the  opinion  (De 
Civ.  Dei  xx.  19)  that  in  2  Thess.  ii.  4  we  should  render  the  Greek  {t'lQ 
Tov  vaov  Toil  i?£OTj),  not  in  templo  Dei,  but  more  correctly  in  lemphim  Dei, 
as  if  Antichrist  and  his  followers  were  themselves  the  temple  of  God, 
the  Church.  He  probably  read  Plotinus  and  Porphyry  in  the  original. 
Comp.  Loesche  :  De  Augusiino  Floiinizante  in  dodrina  de  Deo,  Jena, 
1880. 

*  Decline  and  Fall,  Ch..  XXXHI.  He  adds  that  "Augustin  pos. 
sessed  a  strong,  capacious,  argumentative  mind  ;  he  boldly  sounded 
the  abyss  of  grace,  predestination,  free  will,  and  original  sin  ;  and 
the  rigid  system  of  Christianity  which  he  framed  or  restored  has 
been  entertained  with  public  applause  and  secret  reluctance  by  the 
Catholic  Church."  He  says  in  a  note  :  "  The  Church  of  Eome  has 
canonized  Aiigustin  and  reprobated  Calvin." 

t  Dogmengesch.  I.  1,  p.  61  ;  comp.  the  section  on  Augustin  in  the 
second  volume  of  Baur's  Church  History.  Comj^are  also  tbe  judgments 
of  Vlllemain,  Tahkdu  de  Veloquence  chrelienne  au  IV"  siccle,  Paris,  1849» 
p.  373  ;  of  Ozanam,  La  civilization  au  cinquicme  siccle  (vol.  I.  272,  in 
Glj'n's  translation) ;  and  the  eloquent  account  of  the  veteran  and 
liberal  historian,  Karl  Hase,  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Lectures  on 
Church  History,  Leipzig,  1885,  vol.  I.  514  sqq. 


augustin's  wkitings.  89 

His  style  may  indeed  be  blamed  for  verbosity,  negli- 
gence, and  frequent  rejietition,  but  lie  says  :  "I  would 
rather  be  censured  by  the  grammarians  than  not  under- 
stood by  the  people  ;"  and,  upon  the  whole,  he  had  the 
language  wholly  at  command,  and  knew  how  to  wield 
the  majestic  power,  the  dignity  and  music  of  t)ie  Latin  in 
a  masterly  manner.  His  writings  are  full  of  ingenious 
puns,  and  rise  not  seldom  to  strains  of  true  eloquence 
and  poetic  beauty.  Several  of  his  pregnant  sentences 
have  become  permanently  lodged  in  the  memory  of  the 
Christian  world.  Such  words  of  genius  and  wisdom 
engraven  upon  the  rock  are  worth  more  than  whole  libra- 
ries written  upon  the  sand.  The  following  are  among 
his  most  striking  and  suggestive  thoughts  : 

Cor  nostrum  inquletum  est  donee  requiescat  in  Te. 
Our  heart  is  restless  until  it  rests  in  Thee. 
Novum  Testamenium  in  Vetere  latet,   Veius  in  Novo  patet. 
The  New  Testament  is  concealed  in  the  Old,  the  Old  is  revealed  ia 
the  New. 

Ubi  amor  ibi  trinilas. 

Where  love  is  there  is  trinity. 

Distingue  tempora,  et  concordabit  Scriptura. 

Distinfjuish  the  times,  and  the  Scriptures  will  agree. 

Da  quod  jnbes,  etjnbe  quod  vis. 

Give  what  Thou  commandest,  and  command  what  Thou  wilt. 

Fides  praicedit  iniellectum. 

Faith  precedes  knowledge. 

Non  vincil  nisi  Veritas ;  victoria  veritatis  est  caritas. 

Truth  only  is  victorious  ;  the  victory  of  truth  is  charity. 

Nulta  infelicltas  franrjit,  quern  felicitas  nulla  corrumpit. 

No  misfortune  can  break  him  whom  no  fortune  corrupts. 

Deo  servire  vera  libertas  est. 

To  serve  God  is  true  libei'ty. 

To  Augustin  is  also  popularly  but  falsely  ascribed  the 
famous  and  beautiful  device  of  Christian  union  : 

In  necessariis  unitas,  in  dubiis  libertas,  in  omnibus  caritas. 

In  essentials  unity,  in  non-essentials  liberty,  in  all  things  charity. 


90  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

This  sentence  cannot  be  found  in  liis  writings.  It  is 
too  liberal  for  a  Catholic  divine,  and  is  probably  of 
Protestant  origin.  It  has  been  traced  to  Rupert  Mel- 
denius  and  Richard  Baxter,  two  irenical  divines  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  one  a  German  Lutheran  or  Melanch- 
thonian,  the  other  an  English  Presbyterian,  who  in  the 
midst  of  the  fury  of  theological  controversies  grew  sick 
of  strife  and  longed  after  union  and  peace. 

Since  his  productive  period  as  an  author  extends  over 
four  decades  of  years,  from  his  conversion  to  the  even- 
ing of  his  life,  and  since  he  imfolded  himself  before  the 
eyes  of  the  public,  contradictions  on  many  minor  points 
were  unavoidable  ;  wherefore,  in  old  age,  he  subjected 
his  literary  career  to  a  conscientions  revision  in  his 
detractions,  and,  in  a  spirit  of  genuine  Christian  hu- 
mility, recalled  much  that  he  had  maintained  before 
from  honest  conviction.  But  not  all  his  changes  are  im- 
provements. He  had  more  liberal  views  in  his  younger 
years. 

His  philosophical  writings,  which  were  composed  soon 
after  his  conversion,  and  which  are  yet  full  of  Platonism, 
we  have  already  mentioned. 

His  theological  works  may  be  divided  into  five  classes  :* 

1.  ExEGETicAL  Writings.  Here  w^e  may  name  his 
Expositions  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  (393),  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatians  (394:),  of  the  Psalms  (415),  of 
John  (416),  his  Harmony  of  the  Gospels  (400),  and  an 
extensive  commentary  on  the  first  three  chapters  of 
Genesis  (415). 

His  strength  lies  not  in  knowledere  of  the  oriirinal  lan- 


*  For  a  fuller  account  see  the  author's  Church  Iltsiory,  vol.  III. 
(revised  ed.  1884),  p.  1005  sqq.  For  his  philosophical  works  and 
opinions  the  reader  is  referred  to  Ritter,  Erdmann,  Ueberweg,  Nour- 
rison,  Gangauf ,  and  A.  Dorner,  mentioned  there,  p.  989  and  1039. 


augustin's  writings.  91 

guages,  nor  in  liistorical  and  grammatical  exegesis,  in 
which  he  was  excelled  by  Jerome  among  the  Latins,  and 
Chrjsostom,  Theodoret,  and  Theophvlact  among  the 
Greeks,  bnt  in  the  development  of  theological  and  relig- 
ious thought.  He  depended  mostly  on  the  imperfect 
Itala,  which  was  current  before  Jerome's  Yulgate, 
Hence  he  often  misses  the  natural  sense.  But  he  had  an 
uncommon  familiarity  and  full  inward  sympathy  with 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  often  penetrates  their  deepest 
meaning  by  spiritual  intuition.  He  is  ingenious  and 
suggestive,  even  where  he  violates  the  grammar  or  loses 
himself  in  allegorical  fancies.  He  exercised  also  a  con- 
siderable influence  on  the  final  settlement  of  the  canon  of 
Holy  Scripture,  whose  limit  was  so  firmly  fixed  at  the 
Synods  of  Hippo  in  the  year  393,  and  of  Carthage  in 
397,  that  even  now  it  is  universally  received  in  the  Cath- 
olic and  Evangelical  churches,  with  the  exception  of  a 
difference  in  regard  to  the  value  of  the  Old  Testament 
Apocrypha,  which  the  Council  of  Trent  included  in  the 
Canon,  while  the  Protestant  Confessions  exclude  them 
or  assign  them  a  subordinate  position. 

2.  Apologetic  Writings.  To  these  belong  pre-emi- 
nently his  twenty-two  books  on  the  "  City  of  God  ''  {De 
Civitate  Dei),  begun  in  413  and  finished  in  426,  in  the 
seventy-second  year  of  his  life.  It  is  his  most  learned 
and  influential  work.  It  is  a  noble  and  genial  defence 
of  Christianity  and  the  Church,  in  the  face  of  the  ap- 
jjroaching  downfall  of  the  old  Roman  Empire  and  classic 
civilization,  in  the  face  of  the  irruption  of  the  wild, 
northern  barbarians  into  Southern  Europe  and  Africa, 
and  in  the  face  of  the  innumerable  misfortunes  and 
calamities  by  which  the  human  race  was  scourged  during 
that  transition-period,  and  which  were  attributed  by  the 
heathen  to  the  decay  of  the  ancient  faith  in  the  gods, 


92  SAINT   AUGUSTIN-. 

and  laid  to  the  charge  of  Christianity.  Aiigiistin  shows 
that  all  these  events  are  the  result  of  a  process  of  internal 
putrefaction  long  since  begun,  a  judgment  to  the  heathen, 
and  a  powerful  call  on  them  to  awake  and  repent,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  healthful  trial  to  Christians,  and  the 
birth-throes  of  a  new  spiritual  creation.  Then  he  turns 
from  the  view  of  a  perishing  natural  world  and  her  rep- 
resentative, the  city  of  Rome,  conquered  and  laid  waste 
by  Alaric,  the  King  of  the  Goths,  in  the  year  410,  to  the 
contemplation  of  a  higher,  supernatural  world — to  the 
City  of  God,  founded  by  Christ  upon  a  rock  ;  this  city 
can  never  be  destroyed,  but  out  of  all  the  changes  and 
revolutions  of  time  must  rise,  phoenix-like,  with  new 
power  and  energy  ;  and  after  the  fulfilment  of  her 
earthly  mission  shall  be  separated  even  from  external 
communion  with  the  world,  and  enter  into  the  Sabbath 
of  eternal  rest  and  sj)iritual  repose.  "  The  City  of  God  " 
is  the  first  attempt  at  a  philosophy  of  history,  viewed 
under  the  aspect  of  two  antagonistic  kingdoms. 

3.  Dogmatic  and  Pole^siic  Works.  These  are  very 
numerous  and  important.  Augustin  was  particularly  en- 
dowed as  a  speculative  divine,  a  powerful  reasoner,  and 
an  acute  controversialist.  There  is  scarcely  a  theolog- 
ical question  which  he  did  not  revolve  in  his  mind  over 
and  over  again.  He  ascended  the  highest  heights  and 
sounded  the  deepest  depths  of  religious  speculation.  Ilis 
opinions  are  always  worth  considering,  lie  had  very 
strong  convictions,  but  was  free  from  passion,  and  never 
indulged  in  personalities.  He  was  forci])le  in  matter 
and  sweet  in  spirit,  and  spoke  "  the  truth  in  love." 

Among:  his  doo-matic  works  we  mention  the  fifteen 
books  on  the  Holy  Trinity  (against  the  Arians)  ;  the 
hand-book  {Jinchiridlon)  on  Faith,  Hope,  and  Love  ;  and 
the   four   books    on    Christian   doctrine   {De   Doctrinob 


augustin's  writings.  93 

Christiana),  a  liermeneutic  dogmatic  compendium  for 
religious  teachers,  and  instruction  in  the  development  of 
Christian  doctrine  from  the  Holy  Scripture. 

His  polemic  treatises  may  again  be  divided  into  three 
classes  : 

{a)  Anti-Manichoean  Writings  :  "  On  the  Morals  of 
the  Manichseans  ;"  on  the  "  Morals  of  the  Catholic 
Church;"  on  "Free  Will;"  on  the  "Two  Souls;" 
"  Against  Faustus,"  and  others.  They  are  the  chief 
source  of  our  knowledge  of  the  Manichsean  errors,  and 
their  refutation.  They  belong  to  his  earliest  works. 
They  defend  the  freedom  of  will  against  fatalism  ;  after- 
wards he  changed  his  opinion  on  that  subject. 

{h)  Anti-DonatistiG  Writings  :  "  On  Baptism  against 
the  Donatists  ;"  "  Against  the  Epistle  of  Parmenianus  ;" 
"  Against  Petilianus  ;"  "  Extract  from  the  Transactions 
of  the  Religious  Conference  with  the  Donatists  ;"  and 
others.  They  are  the  chief  source  of  our  knowledge  of 
the  remarkable  Donatistic  schism  in  Africa,  which  beo-an 
long  before  Augustin's  time,  and  was  overcome  prin- 
cipally by  his  intellectual  ability.  They  treat  chiefly  of 
the  essence  and  the  attributes  of  the  Church  and  her 
relation  to  the  world,  of  the  evil  of  schism  and  separa- 
tion. They  complete  the  development  of  the  Catholic 
idea  of  the  Church,  her  visible  unity  and  universality, 
which  was  begun  already  by  Ignatius  and  Irenreus,  and 
carried  on  by  Cyprian.  They  were  composed  between 
393  and  420. 

Unfortunately  he  approved  also  of  coercive  measures 
of  state  for  the  suppression  of  the  separatistic  movement, 
and  supported  it  by  a  false  exegesis  of  the  passage, 
"  Compel  them  to  come  in"  (Luke  xiv.  23).  He  thus 
furnished  the  chief  authority  in  the  middle  ages  for  those 
cruel  persecutions  of  heretics  which  blacken  so  many 


94  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 

pages  of  Churcli  History,  and  from  -wliich,  if  lie  could 
have  foreseen  tlieni,  his  own  Christian  feehngs  would 
have  shrunk  back  in  horror.  Thus  great  and  good  men, 
even  without  intending  it,  have,  through  mistaken  zeal, 
occasioned  much  mischief. 

((?)  Anti-Pelagian  Writings,  of  the  years  411-420,  to 
which  are  to  be  added  the  aiiti- Semi- Pelagian  writings 
of  the  last  years  of  his  life.  We  mention  here  the  books 
"  On  Nature  and  Grace  ;"  "  On  Merit  and  Forgive- 
ness ;"  "  On  Grace  and  Free- Will  ;"  "On  the  Spirit 
and  the  Letter  ;"  "  On  Original  Sin  ;"  "  On  the  Pre- 
destination of  the  Saints  ;"  "  On  the  Gift  of  Persever- 
ance" {De  Dono  PerseverantloB)  ;  "  Against  Pelagius 
and  Coelestius  ;"  "  Against  Julian"  (a  bishop  of  Eclanura 
in  Apulia,  infected  with  Pelagianism).  In  these  treatises 
Augustin  develops  his  profound  doctrines  of  original  sin, 
the  natural  inability  of  man  for  good  ;  of  the  grace  and 
merit  of  Christ  ;  of  eternal  election  ;  of  faith  and  per- 
severance to  the  end — in  opposition  to  the  shallow  and 
superficial  errors  of  the  contemporaneous  monks,  Pela- 
gius and  Ccelestius,  who  denied  natural  depravity,  and 
just  so  far  overthrew  the  value  of  divine  grace  in  Christ. 

These  books  belong  to  his  most  meritorious  labors,  and 
are  decidedly  evangelical,  though  not  free  from  exag- 
gerations. They  have  exerted  a  greater  influence  on  the 
Reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  especially  on  Luther, 
Melanchthon,  and  Calvin,  than  any  of  his  own  or  of  all 
other  human  productions  besides,*  Ilis  anti-Pelagian 
views  of  sin  and  grace  and  divine  foreordination  are 
technically  called  "  the  Augustinian  sj'stem,"  and  this 

*  I  furnished  a  detailed  representation  of  the  Pelagian  controversy 
and  Augustin' s  views  in  connection  with  it  for  the  "  Bibliotheca 
Sacra  and  Theological  Review"  of  Andover  for  the  year  1848,  vol.  v,, 
p.  205-243,  and  in  my  Qhurch  History,  vol.  III.,  783-865. 


augustin's  writings.  95 

again  is  often,  though  erroneously,  identified  with  the 
Calvinistic  system  of  theology.  But  he  held  along  with 
it  other  views  which  are  essentially  Catholic  and  un- 
protestant,  especially  on  the  Church,  on  baptism,  on  jus- 
tification, on  asceticism. 

4.  Ascetic  and  Practical  Writings.  Among  these 
we  may  number  the  "Soliloquies;"  "Meditations;" 
"  On  the  Christian  Conflict  ;"  "On  the  Excellency  of 
Marriage,"  and  a  great  mass  of  sermons  and  homilies, 
part  of  which  were  written  out  by  himself  and  part  taken 
down  by  his  hearers.  Of  these  there  are  about  four 
hundred,  besides  those  which  that  indefatigable  editor  of 
unpublished  manuscripts.  Cardinal  Angelo  Mai,  has 
discovered  among  the  treasures  of  the  Vatican  Library, 
and  given  to  the  press. 

5.  Autobiographical,  or  writings  which  concern  his 
own  life  and  personal  relations.  Here  belong  the  inval- 
uable "  Confessions,"  already  known  to  us — his  exhibi- 
tion of  himself  to  the  time  of  his  conversion  ;  the  "  Re- 
tractions, ' '  his  revision  and  self -correcting  retrospect  at 
the  close  of  his  splendid  career  in  the  Church  and  the 
fields  of  literature  ;  lastly,  a  collection  of  two  hundred 
and  seventy  letters,  in  M^hich  he  exhibits  a  true  picture 
of  his  external  and  internal  life. 


96  SAINT  AUGUSTIN. 


CHAPTER  XXVl. 

THE   INFLUENCE   OF   AIJGUSTIN   ON    HIS    OWN    AND   SUCCEED- 
INa   GENERATIONS. 

From  this  comprehensive  mass  of  writings  it  is  easy  to 
determine  the  significance  and  influence  of  Augustin, 

In  the  sphere  of  theology,  as  well  as  in  all  other 
spheres  of  literature,  it  is  not  the  quantity,  but  the  qual- 
ity of  the  intellectual  product  which  renders  it  most 
effective.  The  apostles  have  written  but  little  ;  and 
yet  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  for  example,  or  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  exert  more  influence  than  whole  libraries 
of  excellent  books — yea,  than  the  literatures  of  whole 
nations.  Tertullian's  "  Apology ;"  Cyprian's  short 
treatise  on  the  "  Unity  of  the  Church  ;"  Anselm's  "  Cur 
Deus  Aomo,"  and  '■'■  Monologium  f  Bernhard's  tracts  on 
"  Despising  the  World,"  and  on  "  The  Love  of  God  ;" 
the  anonymous  little  book  of  "  German  Theology,"  and 
similar  productions,  which  may  be  contained  in  a  couple 
of  sheets,  have  moved  and  blessed  more  minds  than  tlie 
numerous  abstruse  folio  volumes  of  many  scholastics  of 
the  Middle  Ages  and  old  Protestant  divines.  Augustin's 
"  Confessions  ;"  the  simple  little  book  of  the  humble, 
secluded  monk,  Thomas  a  Kempis,  on  the  "  Imitation 
of  Christ  ;"  Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  ;"  Arndt's 
"  True  Christianity,"  have  each  converted,  edifled, 
strengthened,  and  consoled  more  persons  than  whole 
ship-loads  of  indifferent  religious  books  and  commen- 
taries. 

But  Augustin  was  not  only  a  voluminous  writer,  but  also 
a  profound  thinker  and  subtle  reasoner.  Ilis  books,  with 
all  the  faults  and  repetitions  of  isolated  parts,  are  a  spon- 


THE   INFLUENCE   OF   AUGUSTIN.  97 

taneous  outflow  from  the  marvellous  treasures  of  his 
liighly-gifted  mind  and  his  truly  pious  heart.  Although 
he  occupied  one  of  the  smaller  bishoprics,  he  was  yet,  in 
fact,  the  head  and  leading  spirit  of  the  African  Church, 
around  whom  Aurelius  of  Carthage,  the  primate  of 
Africa,  Evodius  of  Uzala,  Fortunatus  of  Cirta,  Possidius 
of  Calama,  Alypius  of  Tagaste,  and  many  other  bishops 
willingly  and  gladly  ranged  themselves — yea,  in  him 
the  whole  Western  Church  of  antiquity  reached  its  high- 
est spiritual  vigor  and  bloom.  His  appearance  in  the 
history  of  dogmas  forms  a  distinct  epoch,  especially  as  it 
regards  anthropological  and  soteriological  doctrines, 
which  he  advanced  considerably  further,  and  brought  to 
a  greater  clearness  and  precision  than  they  had  ever  had 
before  in  the  consciousness  of  the  Church.  For  this  was 
needed  such  a  rare  union  of  the  speculative  talent  of  the 
Greek,  and  of  the  practical  spirit  of  the  Latin  Church 
as  he  alone  possessed.  As  in  the  doctrines  of  sin  and 
grace,  of  the  fall  of  Adam  and  the  redemption  of  Christ, 
the  two  cardinal  points  of  practical  Christianity,  he  went 
far  beyond  the  theology  of  the  Oriental  Church,  which 
devoted  its  chief  energies  to  the  development  of  the 
dogmas  of  the  Holy  Trinity  and  the  person  of  Christ,  so 
at  the  same  time  he  opened  up  new  paths  for  the  prog- 
ress of  Western  theology. 

Not  only  over  his  own  age,  but  over  all  succeeding 
generations  also,  he  has  exercised  an  immeasurable  influ. 
ence,  and  does  still,  as  far  as  the  Christian  Church  and 
theological  science  reach,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Greek  Church,  which  adheres  to  her  own  traditions  and 
the  decisions  of  the  seven  Oecumenical  Councils.  It 
may  be  doubted  if  ever  any  uninspired  theologian  has 
had  and  still  has  so  large  a  number  of  admirers  and  disci- 
ples as  the  Bishop  of  Hippo.     While  most  of  the  great 


98  SAINT   AUGUSTIN". 

men  in  the  history  of  the  Church  are  claimed  either  by 
the  Catholic  or  by  the  Protestant  Confession,  and  their 
influence  is  therefore  confined  to  one  or  the  other,  he 
enjoys  from  both  a  respect  equally  profound  and  endur- 
ing. 

On  the  one  hand,  he  is  among  the  chief  creators  of  the 
OatJiolic  theology.  Through  the  whole  of  the  Middle 
A^^-#iM>m  Gregory  the  Great  down  to  the  Fathers  of 
Trent,  he  was  the  highest  theological  authority.  Thomas 
Aquinas  alone  could  in  some  measure  contest  this  rank 
w^ith  him.  By  his  fondness  for  speculation  and  his 
dialectic  acumen  he  became  the  father  of  mediteval 
scholasticism  /  and  at  the  same  time,  by  his  devotional 
fervor  and  spirit  glowing  with  love,  the  author  of 
mediaeval  Tnysticism.  Hence  the  most  distinguished 
representatives  of  scholasticism — as  Anselm,  Peter  Lom- 
bard, Thomas  Aquinas — and  the  representatives  of  mys- 
ticism— as  Bernhard  of  Clairvaux,  Hugo  of  St.  Victor, 
and  Tau'ler— 'filVe  collectively  appealed  to  his  authority, 
been  nourished  on  his  writings,  and  saturated  with  his 
spirit.  ■  Even  at  this  day  the  Catholic  Church,  notwith- 
standing her  condemnation  of  many  doctrines  of  Augus- 
tin,  under  the  names  of  Protestant,  and  Jansenist  here- 
sies, counts  him  among  her  greatest  saints  and  most  illus- 
trious doctors. 

It  must  not  be  omitted  that  he  is  responsible  also  for 
many  grievous  errors  of  the  Roman  Church.  He  advo- 
cated the  principle  of  persecution  ;  he  taught  the  damna- 
tion of  unbaptized  infants  ;  he  anticipated  the  dogma  of 
the  immaculate  conception  of  the  Virgin  Mary  ;  and 
his  ominous  word,  Roma  locuta  est,  causa  finita  est, 
might  almost  be  quoted  in  favor  of  the  Vatican  decree 
of  papal  infallibility.  These  errors  lie  like  an  incubus 
on  the  Roman  Church.     Error  is  all  the  more  tenacious 


THE   INFLUENCE    OF    AUGUSTIN".  09 

and  dangorons  the  greater  the  truth  it  contains,  and  the 
greater  and  wiser  the  man  who  advocates  it. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  this  same  Angustin  has  also 
an  evanqelical- Protestant  siffniticance.  Next  to  the 
Apostle  Pant,  lie  was  the  chief  teacher  of  the  whole  body 
of  the  Keformers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  his  ex- 
egetical  and  anti-Pelagian  writings  were  the  main  source 
from  which  they  derived  their  views  on  the  depravity  of 
human  nature  and  the  excellence  of  the  forgiving,  regen- 
erating, and  sanctifying  grace  of  God  in  Christ,  and  op- 
posed the  dead  formalism,  self-righteous  Pelagianism, 
and  stiff  mechanism  of  the  scholastic  theology  and  monk- 
ish piety  of  that  age.  As  is  well  known,  they  followed 
him  from  the  very  beginning  even  to  the  dizzy  abyss  of 
the  doctrine  of  predestination,  which  Luther  (in  his  work 
De  /Se7'vo  Arhitrio)  and  Calvin  reproduced  in  its  most 
rigorous  form,  in  order  to  root  out  Pelagianism  and 
Semi-Pelagianism,  and  with  them  all  human  boasting. 
OFATugustin  they  always  speak  with  high  esteem  and 
love,  which  is  the  more  remarkable  because  they  are 
otherwise  very  free  not  only  with  the  mediasval  school- 
men, but  with  the  ancient  Fathers,  and  sometimes  even, 
in  the  passionate  heat  of  their  opposition  to  slavish  rever- 
ence, treat  them  with  neglect  and  contempt.* 


*  la  this,  as  everywhere,  Luther  is  especially  outspoken  and  char- 
acteristic. His  contempt  for  Scholasticism,  which  he  derives  from 
"  the  acciirsed  heathen  Aristotle,"  is  well  known.  Even  the  writings 
of  Thomas  Aquinas,  for  whom  the  Lutheran  theologians  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  had  great  resjject,  he  once  calls  "  the  dregs  of  all 
heresies,  error,  and  destruction  of  the  Gospel."  Neither  did  he  spare 
the  ancient  Fathers,  being  conscious  of  the  difference  between  Prot- 
estant and  Patristic  theology.  "All  the  Fathers,"  he  once  saj'S 
without  ceremony,  "  have  erred  in  faith,  and,  if  not  converted  before 
death,  are  eternally  damned."  "  St.  Gregory  is  the  useless  fountain- 
head  and  author  of  the  fables  of  purgatory  and  masses  for  souls.    He 


100  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

I  will  add  the  most  recent  estimates  of  Augustin  by 
Protestant  historians  in  confirmatiou  of  the  views  ex- 
pressed in  this  chapter. 


"vraa  very  ill  acquainted  •with  Christ  and  His  Gospel  ;  he  is  entirely 
too  superstitious  ;  the  Devil  has  cor^^^pted  him."  On  Jerome,  •whose 
Vulgaia  •was  indispensable  in  his  translation  of  the  Bible  into  Ger- 
man, he  •was  particularly  severe  on  account  of  his  monastic  tenden- 
cies and  legalism.  He  calls  him  a  "  heretic  •who  has  ■written  much 
profanity.  He  has  deserved  hell  more  tban  heaven.  I  know  no  one 
of  the  Fathers  to  •whom  I  am  so  hostile,  as  to  him.  He  -writes  only 
about  fasting,  virginity,  and  such  things."  For  the  same  reason  he 
condemns  Ht.  Basil,  one  of  the  chief  promoters  of  monachism  : 
"  He  is  good  for  nothing  ;  is  only  a  monk  ;  I  •would  not  give  a  straw 
for  him."  Of  Chrysostom,  the  greatest  expounder  of  the  Scrijitures 
and  pulpit-orator  of  the  Greek  Church,  but  of  whom  certainly  he  had 
only  the  most  superficial  knowledge,  he  says,  "  He  is  worth  nothing 
to  me  ;  he  is  a  babbler,  wrote  many  books,  which  make  a  great  show, 
but  are  only  huge,  wild,  tangled  heaps  and  crowds  and  bags  full  of 
words,  for  there  is  nothing  in  them,  and  little  wool  sticks."  Now- 
adays not  a  solitary  Lutheran  theologian  of  any  learning  will  agree 
with  him  in  this  view.  The  Beformer  was  at  times  dissatisfied  with 
Augustin  himself,  because,  amid  all  his  congeniality  of  mind,  he 
could  not  just  find  in  him  his  "sola  fide."  "  Augustin  has  often 
erred,  he  is  not  to  bo  trusted.  Although  good  and  holy,  he  was  yet 
lacking  in  true  faith  as  well  as  the  other  Fathers."  Bat  over  against 
this  casual  expression  stand  a  number  of  eulogies  on  Augustin. 

Luther's  words  must  not  be  weighed  too  nicely,  else  any  and  every- 
thing can  be  proven  by  him,  and  the  most  irreconcilable  contradic- 
tions shown.  We  must  always  judge  him  according  to  the  moment 
and  mood  in  which  he  spoke,  and  duly  remember  his  bluntness  and 
his  stormy,  warlike  nature.  Thiis,  the  above  disparaging  sentences 
upon  some  of  the  greatest  theologians  are  partly  annulled  by  his 
churchly  and  historical  feeling,  and  by  many  expressions,  like  that 
in  a  letter  to  Albert  of  Prussia  (a.d.  1532),  where  he  declares  the  im- 
portance of  tradition  in  matters  of  faith,  as  strongly  as  any  Catholic, 
In  reference  to  the  real  presence  of  Christ  in  the  Lord's  Su^jper,  he 
says  :  "  Moreover  this  article  has  been  unanimously  believed  and 
held  from  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  Church  to  the  present 
hour,  as  may  be  shown  from  the  books  and  writings  of  the  dear 
Fathers,  both  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages,  which  testimony 


THE   INFLUENCE   OF  AUGUSTIN.  101 

Dr.  Bindemann,  one  of  tlie  best  Protestant  biographers 
of  Augustin,  tlms  sums  np  his  estimate  of  his  character 
and  influence  :  "Augustin  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
lights  in  the  Church,  In  importance  he  takes  rank  be- 
hind no  teacher  who  has  labored  in  her  since  the  days  of 
the  apostles.  It  may  well  be  said  that  the  first  place 
among  the  Church  Fathers  is  due  to  him,  and  at  the  time 
of  the  Reformers  only  a  Luther,  by  reason  of  the  ful- 
ness and  depth  of  his  spirit  and  his  nobleness  of  charac- 
ter, was  worthy  to  stand  at  his  side.  He  is  the  highest 
point  of  the  development  of  the  Western  Church  before 
the  Middle  Ages.  From  him  the  Mysticism,  no  less  than 
the  Scholasticism  of  the  Middle  Ages,  has  drawn  its  life  ; 
he  forms  the  mightiest  pillar  of  Roman  Catholicism  ; 
and  the  leaders  of  the  Reformation  derived  from  his 
M-ritings  next  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  espe- 
cially the  Paulinian  Epistles,  those  princij)les  which  gave 
birth  to  a  new  era."  Drvjiurtz  (in  the  ninth  edition 
of  his  Cliurch  History^  1885)  calls  Augustin  "the 
greatest,  mightiest,  and  most  influential  of  all  the  fathers, 
from  whom  the  entire  doctrinal  and  ecclesiastical  devel- 
opment of  the  Occident  proceeded,  and  to  whom  it  re- 
turns again  and  again  in  all  its  turning-points. ' '     Dr.  Carl 

of  the  entire  holy  Christian  Church  ought  to  be  sufficient  for  us,  even 
if  we  had  nothing  more.  For  it  is  dangerous  and  dreadful  to  hear  or 
believe  anything  against  the  unanimous  testimony,  faith,  and  doctrine  of 
the  entire  holy  Christian  Church,  as  it  has  been  held  unanimously  in  all  the 
world  up  to  this  year  1500.  "Whoever  now  doubts  of  this,  ho  does  just 
as  much  as  though  he  believed  in  no  Christian  Church,  and  con- 
demns not  only  the  entire  holy  Christian  Church  as  a  damnable 
heresy,  but  Christ  Himself,  and  all  the  apostles  and  prophets,  who 
founded  this  article,  when  wo  say,  '  I  believe  in  a  holy  Christian 
Church,'  to  which  Christ  bears  powerful  testimony  in  Matt,  xxviii. 
20  :  '  Lo  I  am  with  you  always  to  the  end  of  the  world,'  and  Paul 
in  1  Tim.  iii.  15  :  *  The  Church  is  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the 
truth.'" 


102  SAINT   AUGUSTIN. 

Burk  (in  liis  Church  History,  1885)  says  that  in  Angustin 
ancient  and  modern  ideas  are  melted,  and  that  to  his 
authority  the  papal  church  has  as  much  right  to  appeal 
as  the  churches  of  the  Reformation.  Dr.  Karl  Hase,  of 
Jena,  who,  after  lecturing  on  Church  History  from  1831 
to  1883,  is  now  (1885)  publishing  his  lectures,  emphasizes 
the  liberal  features  of  Angustin,  and  remarks  that 
"  a  right  estimate  of  his  importance  as  an  author  can 
only  be  made  when  we  perceive  how  the  scholastics  and 
mystics  of  the  Middle  Ages  lived  upon  his  riches,  and 
how  even  Luther  and  Calvin  drew  out  of  his  depths.'' 

The  great  genius  of  the  African  Church,  from  whom 
the  Middle  Ages  and  the  Reformation  have  received  an 
impulse  alike  powerful,  though  in  different  directions, 
has  not  yet  fulfilled  the  work  marked  out  for  it  in  the 
counsels  of  Divine  Wisdom.  lie  serves  as  a  bond  of 
union  between  tlie  two  antagonistic  sections  of  "Western 
Christendom,  and  encourages  the  hoj^e  that  a  time  may 
come  when  the  injustice  and  bitterness  of  strife  will  be 
forgiven  and  forgotten,  and  the  discords  of  the  past  be 
drowned  forever  in  the  sweet  harmonies  of  perfect 
knowledge  and  perfect  love. 

This  end  may  be  afar  off.  It  will  come  when  the 
"City  of  God"  is  completed.  "  Then  and  there  "  (to 
use  the  closing  words  of  his  admirable  work)  "  wc  shall 
rest  and  see,  see  and  love,  love  and  praise.  This  is 
what  shall  be  in  the  end  without  end.  For  what  other 
end  do  we  propose  to  ourselves  than  to  attain  to  the 
Kingdom  of  which  there  shall  be  no  end  ?" 

What  Angustin  has  so  beautifully  said  of  men  as  indi- 
viduals may,  with  great  propriety,  be  applied  also  to  the 
ages  of  the  Church  :  "  Thou,  O  Lord,  hast  created  us 
for  Thyself,  and  our  hearts  are  without  rest  until  they 
rest  in  Thee." 


THE    AUGUSTINIAN    SYSTEM.  103 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   AUGUSTINIAN    SYSTEM. 

A  FEW  words  more  on  tlie  anti-Pelagian  system  of 
Angustin,  wliicli  is  so  closely  interwoven  with  tlie  history 
of  Protestant  theology.  It  is  imbedded  in  the  Confes- 
sions of  the  Reformation  ;  it  rnled  the  scholastic  theol- 
ogy of  the  Lntheran  and  Reformed  churches  during  the 
seventeenth  century  ;  it  was  gradually  undermined  first 
by  the  Arminian  movement  in  Holland,  then  by  the 
"VVesleyan  Methodism  in  England  and  America,  and  by 
the  rationalistic  revolution  of  the  last  century,  but  is  still 
held  by  the  schools  of  strict  orthodoxy  in  the  Lutheran 
and  Calvinistic  churches,  with  this  difference,  however, 
that  the  Lutheran  Formula  of  Concord  teaches  a  tmi- 
versal  call  in  connection  with  a  ])articular  election^  and 
rejects  the  decree  of  reprobation. 

The  Roman  Church  accepted  Augustinianism  only  in 
part  and  in  subordination  to  her  sacramentarian  and  sac- 
erdotal system.  The  Greek  Clmrch  ignored  it  altogether, 
although  Pelagius  was  condemned  with  Nestorius  by  the 
Qi^cumenical  Council  of  Ej^hesus  in  431,  without  a  doc- 
trinal statement  of  the  controv^erted  points. 

TJie  Augustinian  system  assumes  but  one  probation  of 
man  and  but  one  act  of  freedom,  which  was  followed  by 
a  universal  slavery  of  sin  and  by  a  partial  redemption  ; 
God  choosing  by  an  eternal  decree  of  grace  from  the 
mass  of  perdition  a  definite  number  of  the  elect  for 
salvation,  and  leaving  the  rest  to  their  deserved  ruin.  It 
suspends  the  eternal  fate  of  Adam  and  his  unborn  ]30s- 
terity,  which  ke  represented,  ujDon  a  single  act  of  dis- 
obedience, which  resulted  in   the  damnation  of  untold 


104  SAINT    AUGUSTIis'. 

millions  of  immortal  beings,  including  all  unbaptized  in- 
fants dying  in  infancy.  That  act,  with  its  fearful  con- 
sequences, was,  of  course,  eternally  foreseen  by  the 
omniscient  God,  and  must  in  some  sense  also  have  been 
decreed  or  foreordained,  since  nothing  can  happen  with- 
out His  sovereign  and  almighty  will.  Augustin  and  the 
Protestant  Confessions  stop  within  the  infralapsarian 
scheme,  which  puts  the  fall  only  under  a  permissive 
decree,  and  makes  Adam  and  the  race  responsible  for  sin. 
Here  is  an  inconsistency,  which  has  its  root  in  a  strong 
sense  of  God's  holiness  and  man's  guilt.  The  siipra- 
lapsarian  scheme,  which  was  developed  by  a  school  in 
Calvinistio  churches,  but  never  obtained  symbolical  sanc- 
tion, is  logically  more  consistent,  but  practically  more 
revolting  by  including  the  fall  itself  in  an  efficient  de- 
cree of  God,  and  making  sin  the  necessary  means  for 
the  manifestation  of  divine  mercy  in  the  saved,  and  of 
divine  justice  in  the  lost. 

Melanchthon  in  his  later  years,  and  the  Arminians 
after  him,  felt  the  speculativ^e  and  moral  difficulties  of 
Augustinianisni,  but  were  no  more  able  to  remove  them 
by  their  compromise  theories  than  the  Semi-Pelagians  of 
old.  Yea,  even  Calvin,  while  accepting  in  faith  the  ab- 
solute decree,  called  it  a  '"''  deGvetum  Jtorribile,  attamen 
verum. ' ' 

Long  before  Augustin,  Origen  had  taught  another 
solution  of  the  problem  of  sin,  based  on  the  Platonic 
theory  of  pre- existence  ;  he  went  even  beyond  the  be- 
ginning of  history  where  Augustin  began,  and  assumed 
a  pre-historic  fall  of  every  individual  soul  (not  of  the 
race,  as  Augustin  held),  but  also  a  final  salvation  of  all. 

Schleiermacher  combined  the  Augustinian  or  Calvin- 
istic  predestinarianism  with  the  Origenistic  restoration- 
ism,  and  taught  a  universal  election,  which  unfolds  itself 


THE    AUGUSTINIAN    SYSTEM.  105 

by  degrees,  and,  while  involving  a  temporary  reprobation 
of  the  impenitent,  results  in  the  final  conversion  and  res- 
toration of  all  men  to  holiness  and  happiness.  Pantheism 
goes  still  further,  and  makes  sin  a  necessary  transition 
point  in  the  process  of  moral  evolution,  but  thereby  cuts 
the  nerve  of  moral  responsibility,  and  overthrows  the 
holiness  of  God. 

Thus  the  deepest  and  strongest  minds,  both  philoso- 
phers and  theologians,  have  been  wrestling  again  and 
again  with  the  dark,  terrific  problem  of  sin  and  death  in 
its  relation  to  an  all-wise,  holy,  and  merciful  God,  and 
yet  have  reached  no  satisfactory  solution  except  that 
God  overrules  evil  for  a  greater  good.  The  Angustinian 
system  contains  a  vast  amount  of  profound  truth,  and 
has  trained  some  of  the  purest  and  strongest  types  of 
Christian  cliaracter. among  the  Jansenists  and  Huguenots 
of  France,  the  Calvinists  of  Holland,  the  Puritans  of 
England,  the  Covenanters  of  Scotland,  and  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  of  l^ew  England.  Nevertheless,  as  a  system  it 
is  unsatisfactory,  because  it  assumes  an  unconscious  and 
yet  responsible  pre-existence  of  the  race  in  Adam,  and 
because  it  leaves  out  of  sight  the  universal  benevolence 
and  impartial  justice  of  God  to  all  His  creatures,  and 
the  freedom  and  individual  responsibility  of  man,  who 
stands  or  falls  with  his  own  actual  sins.  But  it  will  re- 
quire another  theological  genius  even  deeper  and  broader 
than  Origen,  Augustin,  Thomas  Aquinas,  Calvin,  and 
Schleiermacher,  to  break  the  spell  of  that  system  by  sub- 
stituting a  better  one  from  the  inexhaustible  mines  of 
the  Scripture,  which  contains  all  the  elements  and  aspects 
of  the  truth,  without  giving  disproportion  to  one  and 
doing  injustice  to  another. 

The  study  of  history  liberalizes  and  expands  the  mind, 
and  teaches  us  to  respect  and  love,  without   idolatry, 


lOG  SAINT   AUOUSTIN. 

every  great  and  good  man  notwithstanding  his  errors  of 
iudmnent  and  defects  of  character.  There  never  was  an 
unerring  and  perfect  being  on  earth  but  One  who  is 
more  than  man,  and  who  alone  could  say  :  "1  am  the 
Way,  and  the  Truth,  and  the  Life. ' ' 


P.S. — This  biography  is  an  enlarged  revision  of  the  author's  St. 
Augustin,  which  was  published  in  German  by  W.  Hertz,  in  Berlin, 
1854,  and  admirably  translated  by  his  friend,  Professor  Thomas  C. 
Porter  (New  York,  and  London,  Samuel  Bagster  &  Sons,  1854),  but  has 
long  since  been  out  of  print.  The  changes  and  additions  are  con- 
siderable, but  the  popular  character  and  aim  have  been  retained. 


MELA:N^CHTHOIsr. 


HIS   YOUTH    AND    EDUCxVTION. 

Philip  Melanchthon,  the  second  leader  of  tlie  German 
Reformation  and  the  "  Teacher  of  Germany"  {Prcecep- 
tor  GermanicB)^  was  iT^orauof  honest  and  pious  j^arents, 
February  16th,  149  7j., fourteen  years  after  Luther,  at 
Bretten,  in  the  beautiful  and  fertile  Palatinate,  now  be- 
longing to  the  Grand  Duchy  of  Baden. 

His  parents  were  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and 
had  five  children,  Philip  being  the  oldest.  His  father, 
Georg  Schwarzerd,  was  a  manufacturer  of  arms  for  the 
E'TectoF  Philip  of  the  Palatinate,  and  formerly  resided  at 
Heidelberg.  He  once  made  a  skilfully  contrived  armor 
for  the  Emperor  Maximilian  L,  in  which  this  last  of 
the  mediaeval  knights  conquered  a  bold  Italian  in  a  tour- 
nament. Melanchthon  himself  afterward  prepared  the 
spiritual  weapons  for  the  conflict  of  Germany  with  the 
Pope  of  Rome.  His  mother,  Barbara  Renter,  is  de- 
scribed as  a  prudent,  economical,  and  benevolent  woman. 
She  was  a  niece  of  the  celebrated  classical  and  Hebrew 
scholar  John  Reuchlin,  of  Pforzheim,  who  suffered  much 
persecution  from  ignorant  Dominican  monks  for  pro- 
moting Biblical  learning.* 


*  See  Forstemann,  Die,  Schwarzerde,  oder  Znsammenstellung  der  Xach- 
richten  fiber  ]\lelanchtho)i' s  Gesrhlecht,  in  the  "  Theol.  Studien  imd 
Kritiken,"  1830,  i>.  119  sqq.  Also  Carl  Schmidt,  Philipp  Jlelanchthon, 
Elberfeld,  1801,  p.  1-6. 


108  MELANCHTHOK. 

Melanclithon  lost  liis  father  in  early  boyhood,  but 
Reuchlin  took  charge  of  his  education,  gave  him,  ac- 
cording to  the  literary  fashion  of  the  age,  his  Greek 
name  Melanchthon^  or  MelantJion,^  in  exchange  for  the 
German  family  name  Schwarzerd  {Black- eartK),,  to- 
gether with  the  rare  and  costly  present  of  a  Latin  Bible, 
and  sent  him  to  the  Latin  school  at  Pforzheim  (1507), 
and  to  the  Universities  of  Heidelberg  (1509)  and  Tubin- 
gen (1512). 

He  studied  philosophy,  mathematics,  natural  science, 
law,  and  medicine,  but  especially  the  Greek  and  Roman 
classics,  which  were  then  raised  to  life  again  after  a  long 
sleep  in  the  dust  of  ages,  and  which  kindled  the  fire  of 
enthusiasm  for  liberal  culture  among  scholars  in  Italy, 
France,  England,  Holland,  and  Germany.  It  was  an 
age  of  literary  discovery  preparatory  to  the  Reformation, 
and  in  many  respects  resembles  our  own  age  of  restless 
progress.  It  was  the  century  of  the  Renaissance,  when 
the  world  and  the  Church  renewed  their  youth.  "  The 
studies  flourish,"  said  Ul rich  von  Hutten,  "the  spirits 
are  awake,  it  is  a  luxury  to  live."  And  Luther  wrote  in 
1522  :  "If  you  read  all  the  annals  of  the  past,  you  will 
find  no  century  like  this  since  the  birth  of  Christ.  Such 
building  and  planting,  such  good  living  and  dressing, 
such  enterprise  in  commerce,  such  stir  in  all  the  arts,  has 
not  been  since  Christ  came  into  the  world.  And  how 
numerous  are  the  sharp  and  intelligent  wits  who  leave 
nothing  hidden  and  unturned  !  Even  a  boy  of  twenty 
years  knows  more  nowadays  than  was  formerly  known 
by  twenty  doctors  of  divinity." 

*  Ho  spellocl  his  name  Melanclithon  till  1531  ;  afterward  he  adopted 
the  shorter  form,  for  easier  ijronunciation.  In  the  University  of 
Heidelberg  he  was  immatriculated  as  "  Philippus  Schwarzerd  da 
Brdlen."     The  Greek  name  is  from  iitlav,  black,  and  x'^'^^y  earth. 


MELAJSrCIITIION   IN  TUBINGEiT.  109 

In  theology  Melanchtlion  had  at  that  time  less  inter- 
est, as  it  was  taught  in  the  dry,  barren  method  of  medi- 
aeval scholasticism  in  the  last  stages  of  dissolution  ;  but 
he  had  received  a  pious  training  at  home,  and  took  great 
delight  in  public  worship,  and  in  reading  the  Greek 
Testament,  and  the  lives  of  saints. 

By  the  extraordinary  precocity  of  his  genius,  in  con- 
nection with  great  modesty  and  amiability  of  character, 
he  attracted  favorable  attention,  and  rose  witli  unex- 
ampled rapidity  to  the  highest  rank  of  classical  and  gen- 
eral scholarship.  He  wrote  and  spoke  the  ancient  lan- 
guages better  than  his  native  German.  He  composed 
poetry  in  Latin  and  Greek.  He  learned  the  Hel)xew 
from  Reuchlin's  Grammar,  which  marks  an  epoch  in 
Hebrew  learning.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  (1511)  he  took 
the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  ;  three  years  later  (151-1) 
that  of  Master  of  Arts^  In  1516  the  famous  Erasmus, 
theprince  of  classical  scholars,  gave  him  the  testimony  : 
"  My  God  !  what  expectations  does  Philip  Melanchtlion 
excite,  who  is  yet  a  youth — yea,  we  may  say  a  mere  boy, 
and  has  already  attained  to  eqaal  eminence  in  the  Greek 
and  Latin  literature  r_  /What  acumen  in  demonstration  ! 
AVlTat  j^urily  "andf'  elegance  of  style  !  What  rare  learn- 
ing !  "What  comprehensive  reading  !  What  tenderness 
and  refinement  in  his  extraordinary  genius  !"  * 

MELANCIITnON   IN   TUUINGEN". 

Melanchtlion  commenced  his  public  life  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Tiibingen,  on  the  beautiful  banks  of  the  Neckar, 
as  lecturer  on  ancient  literature,  and  editor  and  com- 
mentator of  Aristotle  and  other  classics.     In  1518  he 


*  Annotat.  ad  Nov.  Test.,  Basel,  151G,  fol.  555. 


110  MELANCHTUON. 

pnblislied  a  Greek  Grammar,  which  passed  through  many 
editions,  and  was  nsed  as  a  text-book  long  after  his  death. 
The  influence  of  his  fatherly  friend  Reuchlin,  who  de- 
fended the  cause  of  liberal  learning  and  progress  against 
obscurantism  and  stagnation,  and  especially  the  careful 
study  of  the  Bible,  which  he  carried  with  him  every- 
where, opened  his  eyes  to  the  sad  condition  of  the 
Church  and  the  priesthood,  and  disposed  him  favorably 
to  the  reform  movement,  which  commenced,  during  his 
residence  at  Tubingen,  with  the  famous  controversy  of 
Luther  and  Tetzel  (1517),  and  at  once  attracted  the 
attention  of  every  educated  man.  The  jirotest  against 
the  profane  traffic  in  indulgences  was  the  occasion  of  the 
Reformation,  but  the  cause  lay  deeper,  in  the  aspirations 
after  freedom  from  the  fetters  of  popery.  So  the  firing 
at  Fort  Sumter  in  South  Carolina  occasioned  the  civil 
war  in  America,  while  the  real  cause  was  the  institution 
of  slavery.  The  Ninety-five  Theses  of  the  lonely  monk 
at  Wittenberg  were  the  spark  that  kindled  a  fire  all  over 
Europe  and  opened  a  new  chapter  in  the  history  of  the 
world. 

MELANCnTHON  IN  WITTENBERG. 

At  the  recommendation  of  Reuchlin,  the  Elector 
Frederic  the  Wise,  of  Saxony,  the  cautious  and  faithful 
patron  of  Luther,  called  the  promising  scholar  from 
Tiibingen  to  the  Greek  professorship  in  the  University 
of  Wittenberg,  which  that  prince  had  founded  in  1502, 
and  which  had  just  acquired  a  European  celebrity  by  the 
outbreak  of  the  Reformation. 

Melanchthon  declined  calls  to  Ingolstadt  and  Leipzig, 
but  accepted  that  to  Wittenberg.  He  arrived  there  on 
the  25th  of  August,  1518,  nearly  one  year  after  the  pub- 
lication of  Luther's  Theses  (October  31st,  1517),  and  two 


MELA5TCHTH0]Sr   IN    "WITTENBERG.  Ill 

years  before  tlie  burning  of  tlie  Pope's  bull  of  excommu- 
nication (December  lOtli,  1520).  j^ext  to  the  "  Luther- 
haus "  and  the  Castle  Clinrcli,  the  most  interesting 
building  in  the  quaint  old  town  of  Wittenberg  on  the 
banks  of  the  Elbe  is  the  house  of  Melanchthon  in  the  Col- 
legienstrasse.     It  bears  the  inscription  on  the  outer  wall  : 

"  Hier  wohnte  lelirte 

und  starb  Pbilipp 

Melanchthon." 

("Here  dwelt,  taught,  and  died  Philipp  Melanchthon.") 

It  is  a  three-story  building,  and  belongs  to  the  Prus- 
sian government,  King  Friedrich  Wilhelm  IV.  having 
bought  it  from  its  former  owner.  Melanchthon's  study 
is  on  the  first  story  ;  there  he  died.  Behind  the  house 
is  a  little  garden  which  was  connected  with  Luther's 
garden.  Here,  under  tlie  shade  of  the  tree,  the  two 
Reformers  may  often  have  exchanged  views  on  the  stir- 
ring events  of  the  times,  and  encouraged  each  other  in 
the  great  conflict  with  popery. 

Althongh  yet  a  youth  of  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
Melanchthon  at  once  gained  the  esteem  and  admiration 
of  his  colleagues  and  hearers.  He  was  small  of  stature, 
unprepossessing  in  his  outward  appearance,  and  ex- 
tremely diffident  and  timid.  But  his  high  and  nol)le 
forehead  and  his  fine  blue  eyes,  full  of  fire,  rev^ealed  the 
beauty  and  strength  of  his  inner  man.  His  learning  was 
undoubted,  and  his  moral  and  religious  character  above 
suspicion.  His  introductory  address,  delivered  four  days 
after  his  arrival,  on  "the  Improvement  of  the  Studies 
of  Youth,"  "^  dispelled  all  fears;  it  contained  the  pro- 
gram of  his  academic  teaching,  and  marks  an  epoch  in 


*  De  Corrigendis  Adolescentium  Studils,  in  the  Corpus  Reformatorum, 
XI.  15  sqq.     See  Schmidt,  I.  c.  29  sq. 


112  MELANCHTHON". 

the  history  of  liberal  education  in  Germany.  He  de- 
sired to  lead  the  student  to  the  sources  of  knowledge,  and 
by  a  careful  study  of  the  languages  to  furnish  the  key  for 
the  proper  understanding  of  Christianity,  that  they  might 
become  living  members  of  Christ  and  enjoy  the  fruits 
of  His  heavenly  wisdom. 

He  at  first  devoted  himself  to  j^hilological  pursuits,  and 
did  more  than  any  of  his  contemporaries,  not  excepting 
Erasmus,  to  revive  the  study  of  the  Greek  language  and 
literature,  which  did  such  essential  service  to  the  cause 
of  Biblical  learning,  and  materially  promoted  the  tri- 
umph of  the  Reformation.  He  called  the  ancient  lan- 
guages the  swaddling-clothes  of  the  Christ-child  ;  Luther 
compared  them  to  the  sheath  of  the  sword  of  the  Spirit. 
Melanchthon  was  master  of  the  ancient  languages,  Luther 
master  of  the  German  ;  the  former,  by  his  co-operation, 
secured  accuracy  to  the  German  Bible  ;  the  latter,  idio- 
matic force  and  poetic  beauty. 

In  the  year  1519  Melanchthon  graduated  as  Bachelor  of 
Divinity  ;  the  degree  of  Doctor  he  modestly  declined. 
From  that  time  on  he  was  a  member  of  the  theological 
faculty,  and  delivered  also  theological  lectures,  especially 
on  exegesis.  He  taught  two  hours  every  day  a  variety 
of  topics,  including  ethics,  logic,  Greek  grammar,  and 
literature.  In  the  latter  period  of  his  life  he  devoted 
himself  exclusively  to  sacred  learning.  He  was  never 
ordained,  and  never  ascended  the  pulpit  ;  but  for  the 
benefit  of  foreign  students  who  were  ignorant  of  Ger- 
man, he  delivered  every  Sunday  in  his  lecture-room  a 
Latin  sermon  on  the  Scripture  lessons.  He  was  the  most 
popular  teacher  at  "Wittenberg. 

His  and  Luther's  fame  attracted  students  from  all  parts 
of  Christendom.  He  had,  at  times,  as  many  as  fj-om 
fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand  hearers  (the  whole  Uni- 


LUTHER   A^STD    MELAXCHTHON".  113 

versity  numbered  at  one  time  three  thousand  students), 
including  princes,  counts,  and  barons,  and  heard  occa- 
sionally as  many  as  eleven  languages  at  his  frugal  but 
hospitable  table.  Subsequently  he  received  several  calls 
to  Tubingen,  Kiirnberg,  and  Heidelberg,  and  was  also 
invited  to  Denmark,  France,  and  England  ;  but  he  pre- 
ferred remaining  in  Wittenberg  till  his  death. 

He  drew  up  the  statutes  of  the  University,  which  are 
regarded  as  a  model.  By  his  advice  and  example  the 
higher  education  in  Germany  was  regulated. 

LUTHER    AND    MELANCHTHON. 

Immediately  after  his  arrival  at  the  Saxon  University, 
on  the  Elbe,  Melanchthon  entered  into  an  intimate  rela- 
tion with  Luther,  and  became  his  most  useful  and  influ- 
ential CO- laborer  in  the  work  of  reformation.  He  looked 
up  to  his  elder  colleague  with  the  veneration  of  a  son, 
and  was  carried  away  and  controlled  (sometimes  against 
his  better  judgment)  by  the  fiery  genius  of  the  Protestant 
Elijah  ;  while  Luther  regarded  him  as  his  superior  in 
learning  and  moderation,  and  was  not  ashamed  to  sit 
humbly  at  the  feet  of  the  modest  and  diffident  youth. 
He  attended  several  of  his  exegetical  lectures,  and  pub- 
lished them,  without  his  wish  and  knowledge,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  Church. 

The  friendshij)  of  these  two  great  men  is  one  of  the 
most  delightful  chapters  in  the  religious  drama  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  It  rested  on  mutual  personal  esteem 
and  hearty  German  affection,  but  especially  on  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  providential  mission  intrusted  to  their 
united  labors.  Although  somewhat  disturbed,  at  a  later 
period,  by  slight  doctrinal  differences  and  occasional  ill- 
humor,  it  lasted  to  the  end  ;  and  as  they  worked  together 


114  MELANCHTHON. 

for  the  same  cause,  so  they  now  rest  under  the  same 
roof  in  the  church  at  Wittenberg,  at  whose  doors  Lather 
had  nailed  the  war-cry  of  the  Reformation. 

Melanchthon  descended  from  South  Germany,  Luther 
from  North  Germany  ;  Melanchthon  from  the  well-to-do 
middle  classes  of  citizens  and  artisans,  Luther  from  the 
peasantry.  Melanchthon  had  a  quiet,  literary  preparation 
for  his  work  ;  Luther  experienced  much  hardship  and 
severe  moral  conflicts.  The  former  passed  through  the 
door  of  classical  studies,  the  latter  through  the  door  of 
mystic  contemplation  and  monastic  asceticism  ;  the  one 
was  foreordained  to  a  professor's  chair,  the  other  to  the 
leadership  of  an  army  of  conquest. 

Luther  best  understood  and  exj^ressed  the  difference  of 
character,  and  it  is  one  of  his  noble  traits  that  he  did  not 
allow  it  to  interfere  with  the  esteem  and  admiration  for 
his  younger  friend  and  co-worker.  "  I  prefer  the  books 
of  Master  Philippus  to  my  own,"  he  wrote  in  1529. 
"  I  am  rough,  boisterous,  stormy,  and  altogether  warlike, 
fii>;htino:  a<2;ainst  innumerable  monsters  and  devils.  I  am 
bom  for  the  work  of  removing  stumps  and  stones,  cut- 
ting away  thistles  and  thorns,  and  clearing  the  wild  for- 
ests ;  but  Master  Philippus  comes  along  softly  and 
gently,  sowing  and  watering  with  joy,  according  to  the 
gifts  which  God  has  abundantly  bestowed  upon  him." 

Luther  was  incomparably  the  stronger  man  of  the  two, 
and  differed  from  Melanchthon  as  the  wild  mountain  tor- 
rent differs  from  the  quiet  stream  of  the  meadow,  or  as 
the  rushing  tempest  from  the  gentle  breeze,  or,  to  use 
a  Scriptural  illustration,  as  the  fiery  Paul  from  the  con- 
templative John.  Luther  was  a  man  of  war,  Melanchthon 
a  man  of  peace.  Luther's  writings  smell  of  powder  ; 
his  words  are  battles  ;  he  overwhelms  his  opponents  with 
a  roaring  cannonade  of  argument,  eloquence,   passion, 


LUTHER   AND   MELANCHTHON",  115 

and  abuse.  Melanclitlion  excels  in  moderation  and  amia- 
bility, and  often  exercised  a  happy  restraint  npon  the 
unmeasured  violence  of  his  colleague.  Luther  was  a 
creative  genius  and  pioneer  of  new  paths  ;  Melanchthon 
a  highly  gifted  scholar  of  untiring  industry.  The  one 
was  emphatically  the  man  for  the  people,  abounding  in 
strong  and  clear  sense,  popular  eloquence,  natural  wit, 
genial  humor,  intrepid  courage,  and  straightforward 
lionesty.  The  other  was  a  quiet,  considerate  scholar — a 
man  of  order,  method,  and  taste,  and  gained  the  literary 
circles  for  the  cause  of  the  Reformation.  He  is  the 
principal  founder  of  a  Protestant  theology.  He  very 
properly  represented  the  evangelical  cause  in  all  the  theo- 
logical conferences  with  the  Roman  Catholic  party  at 
Augsburg,  Speier,  "Worms,  Frankfort,  Ratisbon,  where 
Luther's  presence  would  only  have  increased  the  heat  of 
controversy,  and  widened  the  breach. 

Without  Luther  the  Reformation  would  never  liave 
taken  hold  of  the  common  people  ;  without  Melanchthon 
it  would  never  have  succeeded  among  the  scholars  of 
Germany.  The  former  was  unyielding  and  nncompro- 
misino;  ao-ainst  Romanism  and  Zwinglianism  :  the  other 
was  always  ready  for  compromise  and  peace,  as  far  as  his 
honest  convictions  would  allow,  and  sincerely  labored  to 
restore  the  broken  nnity  of  the  Church.  He  was  even 
willing,  as  his  qualified  subscription  to  the  Articles  of 
Smalcald  shows,  to  admit  a  certain  supremacy  of  the 
Pope  {jure  hiimano),  provided  he  would  tolerate  the  free 
preaching  of  the  gospel.  But  Popery  and  evangelical 
freedom  will  never  agree. 

The  one  was  the  boldest,  the  most  heroic  and  com- 
manding ;  the  other,  the  most  gentle,  pious,  and  consci- 
entious of  the  Reformers.  Melanchthon  had  less  cour- 
age, and  felt,  more  keenly  and  painfully  than  any  other, 


116  MELANCHTHON. 

the  tremendous  responsibility  of  tlie  great  religions  move- 
ment in  which  he  was  engaged.  He  wonld  have  made  any 
personal  sacrifice  if  he  could  have  removed  the  confusion 
and  divisions  attendant  upon  it.*  On  several  occasions 
he  showed,  no  doubt,  too  much  timidity  and  weakness  ; 
but  his  concessions  to  the  enemy,  and  his  disposition  to 
compromise  for  peace  and  unity's  sake,  proceeded  al- 
ways from  pure  and  conscientious  motives. 

The  two  Wittenberg  Reformers  were  evidently  brought 
together  by  the  hand  of  Providence,  to  supply  and  com- 
plete each  other,  and  by  their  united  talents  and  ener- 
gies to  carry  forward  the  German  Reformation,  which 
would  have  assumed  a  very  different  character  if  Jt  had 
been  exclusively  left  in  the  hands  of  either  of  them. 
Without  Luther,  Melanclithon  would  have  become  a 
second  Erasmus,  though  with  a  profounder  interest  in 
religion,  and  the  Reformation  would  liave  resulted  in  a 
liberal  theological  school  instead  of  giving  birth  to  a 
Church.  However  much  the  humble  and  unostentatious 
labors  and  merits  of  Melanclithon  are  overshadowed  by 
the  more  striking  and  brilliant  deeds  of  the  heroic 
Luther,  they  were,  in  their  own  way,  quite  as  useful  and 
indisjDensable.  The  "•  still  small  voice  "  often  made 
friends  to  Protestantism  where  the  earthquake  and 
thunder-storm  produced  only  terror  and  convulsion. 


DOMESTIC    AND    PEIVATE    LIFE. 

Melanchthon,  being  not  an  ordained  clergyman  or 
monk,  like  Luther  and  other  Reformers,  had  no  vow  of 
celibacy  that  might  hinder  him  from  entering  the  mar- 


*"Der  Schmnrz  der  KirchenspaUung  ist  iief  (lurch  seine  schuldlose  Secle 
gegangen."    Hase,  Eirchengesch.,  10th  ed.  (1877),  p.  385. 


DOMESTIC    AND    PRIVATE    LIFE.  117 

ried  state.  In  August,  1520,  when  twenty- three  years  of 
age,  he  married  Catharina  Krapp,  the  worthy  daughter 
of  the  burgomaster  of  Wittenberg.  He  followed  in  this 
step  not  so  much  his  own  inclination  as  the  advice  of 
Luther,  who  was  anxious  for  his  health,  and  hoped  that 
a  good  u^ife  would  keep  him  from  excess  of  study,  and 
prolong  his  usefulness.  Luther  himself  married  four 
years  later,  not  so  much  from  inclination  as  for  the  pur- 
pose, as  he  said,  of  pleasing  his  father,  teasing  the  pope, 
and  vexing  the  devil. 

Melanchthon's  marriage  proved  a  happy  one,  but  was 
not  free  from  the  usual  cares  and  trials.  He  declared  that 
his  wife  was  worthy  of  a  better  husband.  His  intimate 
friend  and  biographer,  Camerarius,  gives  her  a  most 
favorable  testimony.  She  died  during  his  absence  in 
Worms,  in  1537.  When  he  heard  the  sad  news  he 
looked  up  to  heaven  with  a  sigh  and  said,  "  Soon  I  shall 
follow  thee."  By  her  he  had  two  sons  and  two  daugh- 
ters. He  was  a  very  affectionate  father.  Occasionally 
strangers  would  find  him  in  the  nursery,  rocking  the 
cradle  with  one  hand  and  holding  a  book  in  the  other. 
He  called  his  house  "  a  little  church"  (ecdesiold).  He 
was  in  the  habit  of  repeating  the  Apostles'  Creed  three 
times  every  day  in  his  family. 

His  son  Philip  studied  law,  grieved  his  father  by  a 
secret  marriage,  became  a  notary  public,  and  died  in  his 
eightieth  year,  without  children.  His  daughter  Anna 
married  Georg  Sabinus,  a  poet  of  light  character, 
brought  up  in  his  family.  She  died  young,  and  left  three 
daughters  to  cheer  the  old  age  of  their  grandfather.  His 
younger  daughter,  Magdalena,  was  the  wife  of  a  distin- 
guished physician  and  professor,  Caspar  Peucer,  who, 
after  his  death,  ruled  the  University  of  Wittenberg,  but 
was   cruelly   persecuted  and   kept   ten  years  in  prison 


118  MELANCHXnON. 

by  tlie  Elector  Augustus,  on  account  of  Krypto-Cal- 
vinism,  of  which  he  was  the  leader. 

His  mode  of  living  was  very  simple,  but  free  from 
ascetic  austerity.  Wittenberg  was  then  a  town  of 
miserable  dwellings  in  a  sandy  plain  on  the  borders  of 
civilization.  Coming  from  the  fertile  Palatinate, 
Melanchthon  complained  at  first  that  he  could  hardly  get 
decent  food.  His  highest  salary  was  only  three  hundred 
guilders.  In  the  first  year  he  could  not  afford  to  buy 
a  new  dress  for  his  wife.  When  Cardinal  Bembo  of 
Rome  heard  of  his  scanty  support,  he  exclaimed  :  "  O 
ungrateful  Germany  !"  It  seems  that  neither  he  nor 
Luther  received  any  compensation  for  their  books,  except 
indirectly  in  the  shape  of  occasional  presents.  But  his 
hospitality  and  benevolence  were  unbounded  and  often 
abused.  In  this  respect  he  was  like  Luther.  Both  had 
the  German  faculty  of  being  happy  on  a  small  capital. 
They  preferred  plain  living  with  high  thinking  to  plain 
thinking  with  high  living.  Poverty  with  contentment  is 
the  lot  of  scholars  v/ho  accomplish  most  for  the  good  of 
the  world.  The  apostles  and  ancient  fathers  fared  no 
better. 

Melanchthon' s  heart  was  open  to  tender  and  affection- 
ate friendship.  With  Joachim  Camerarius  he  was  one 
heart  and  one  soul.  His  relation  to  Luther  was  disturbed 
on  the  surface,  but  not  at  the  bottom,  and  in  the  funeral 
oration  he  called  him  the  Elijah  who  had  roused  the 
Church  of  God.  His  honesty,  integrity,  unselfishness, 
conscientiousness,  and  amiability  are  acknowledged  by 
all.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  irritable,  timid,  and  want- 
ing in  firmness  of  character.  He  unfortunately  yielded 
Lis  consent  to  the  double  marriage  of  Philip  of  Hesse. 
This  is  the  greatest  mistake  which  the  Reformers  of  Ger- 
many made,  and  admits  of  no  excuse.     But  Melanchthon 


DOMESTIC    AND    PRIVATE   LIFE.  119 

repented  of  it  so  deeply  that  he  was  brought  to  the  brink 
of  death  at  Weimar  in  1540.*  Lnther,  who  was  made 
of  sterner  stuff,  interposed  for  his  recovery  with  liis  most 
earnest  prayers,  summoning  all  the  resources  of  his  faith 
and  all  the  promises  of  God,  and  he  succeeded. 

Melanchthon's  approval  of  the  execution  of  Servetus 
for  heresy  is  anotlier  deplorable  act,  but  this  must  be 
charged  to  the  intolerance  of  the  age  and  the  prevailing 
union  of  Church  and  State  which  made  an  offence 
against  the  one  an  offence  against  the  other,  and  punish- 
able by  both.  In  this  respect  the  Reformers  did  not  rise 
above  the  theory  of  the  Middle  Ages.  They  had  no 
proper  conception  of  religious  toleration  and  hberty. 

Melanchthon  shared  also  the  traditional  superstitions  in 
regard  to  astrology,  spectres,  witchcraft,  and  covenants 
with  the  devil.  Pope  Paul  III.  consulted  the  stars  before 
he  took  a  journey,  or  convened  an  important  consistory. 
Even  Lord  Bacon,  and  the  great  astronomers  Tycho 
de  Brahe  and  Kepler  did  not  altogether  reject  astrology. 
Luther  had  no  faith  in  it,  and  was  in  this  respect  ahead 
of  his  age.  He  argued  against  it  from  the  example  of 
Esau  and  Jacob,  who  were  born  at  the  same  time  and 
under  the  same  stars,  and  yet  of  totally  different  charac- 
ter. On  the  other  hand,  Luther  had  personal  encounters 
with  the  Evil  One,  and  threw  the  inkstand  at  him  in  the 
Wartburg.  He  also  believed  in  the  motion  of  the  sun 
around  the  earth,  and  objected,  in  a  conversation  with 
Melanchthon,  to  the  Copernican  system  that  Joshua  bade 
the  sun  to  stand  still,  and  not  the  earth. 


* ' '  Wie  hat  der  Teufel  dieses  Organon  geschiindet  /"  said  Lutlier,  ■when 
he  saw  the  corpse-like  form  of  his  friend. 


120  MELANCHTHON. 


THE    CLOSING   YEARS. 

After  Luther's  death,  in  1546,  Melanchthon  lost  the 
strongest  outward  support  of  his  character,  and  his  natu- 
ral timidity  and  irresoluteness  appeared  more  promi- 
nently than  before.  The  times  also  became  too  violent 
for  so  peaceful  a  man.  The  war  between  Catholics  and 
Protestants  broke  out  at  last.  Charles  Y.  defeated  the 
Lutheran  princes  at  Miihlberg  (April  2-lth,  1547),  entered 
Wittenberg,  and  stood  thoughtful  before  the  grav^e  of 
Luther,  in  the  castle  church.  Although  he  regretted 
that  he  had  not  burned  the  archheretic  at  Worms,  he 
promptly  dechned  the  proposal  of  one  of  his  gene: als, 
to  dig  up  and  burn  his  bones  and  to  scatter  the 
ashes  to  the  four  winds,  with  the  noble  and  dignified 
answer  :  "  I  war  against  the  living,  not  the  dead."  The 
University  w^as  dissolved.  Melanchthon  fled  with  his 
family  and  Luther's  widow  to  Braunschweig,  and  after- 
ward to  Nordhausen,  lie  returned  after  the  victory  of 
Elector  Moritz  of  Saxony  over  the  Emperor,  and  labored 
twelve  more  years  at  the  head  of  the  University,  which 
rose  again  to  a  high  degree  of  prosperity.  He  was  con- 
sulted from  near  and  far  as  a  sort  of  oracle  in  theology 
and  education.  But  he  was  violently  assailed  from 
Magdeburg  and  Jena  by  Elacius,  his  former  pupil  and 
jprotegd^  by  Westphal,  Ilesshusius,  and  other  fanatical 
Lutherans,  who  forgot  his  invaluable  services  to  the 
Lutheran  Church,  and  openly  charged  him  with  treason 
to  the  cause  of  truth. 

The  ground  of  this  charge  was  his  yielding  disposition 
to  Popery  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  Calvinism  on  the 
other.  He  submitted  to  the  Augsburg  and  Leij^zig  com- 
promises, called  Interim,  which  the  Emperor  imposed 
upon  the  Protestants,  but  which  fell  to  pieces  with  his 


THE  CLOSIXG   YEARS.  121 

defeat.  Melanchthoii  liad  not  the  courage  of  a  martyr, 
and  hoped  hy  submission  to  ceremonies  in  themselves 
indifferent  to  prevent  the  reintroduction  of  Popery  and 
to  save  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  for  better  times. 
He  gave  still  greater  offence  to  the  same  bigoted  jiarty 
by  his  growing  disposition  to  unite  with  the  Reformed, 
which  was  strengthened  by  his  intimate  personal  and 
theological  friendshij?  with  Calvin  since  they  met  at 
theological  conferences  in  1539  and  1540.  He  mastered 
his  sensitive  temper,  and  answered  the  attack^  of  his 
former  friends  and  pupils  by  silence.  He  sought  to  gain 
his  enemies  by  kindness.  The  violent  controversies  in 
the  Lutheran  Church  continued  long  after  his  death, 
and  were  adjusted  at  last  by  the  "  Formula  of  Con- 
cord ' '  and  the  triumph  of  strict  Lutheran  orthodoxy 
(1577). 

Add  to  these  public  calamities  and  personal  attacks  the 
growing  weakness  and  sickness  of  the  body,  and  various 
domestic  bereavements,  and  we  need  not  wonder  that 
the  last  years  of  Melanchthon  were  years  of  grief  and 
sorrow  rather  than  of  joy  and  pleasure.  He  experienced 
the  full  measure  of  that  melancholy  which  cast  its  shade 
over  the  closing  scenes  of  Luther,  and  many  other  great 
and  good  men.  He  often  prayed  to  be  delivered  from 
the  "  fury  of  theologians"  {rabies  theologorum). 

His  personal  sufferings,  however,  did  not  affect  him 
near  as  much  as  his  care  for  the  Church.  He  uttered 
the  noble  sentiment  :  "If  my  eyes  were  a  fountain  of 
tears,  as  rich  as  the  river  Elbe,  I  could  not  sufficiently 
express  my  sorrow  over  the  divisions  and  distractions  of 
Christians."  His  heart  and  soul  longed  and  prayed,  in 
unison  with  the  spirit  of  his  divine  Master,  that  all  be- 
lievers "may  be  perfected  into  one,"  even  as  He  and 
the  Father  are  one  (John  xvii.   23).     His  last  lecture 


122  MELANCHTHON. 

treated  of  Christ's  agony  in  Gethsemane,  liis  last  sermon 
was  on  the  sacerdotal  prayer  of  our  Lord. 

HIS    DEATH. 

Finally,  the  hour  of  his  deliverance  came.  He  died 
peacefully  on  the  19th  of  April,  1500,  aged  sixty-three 
years,  in  the  presence  of  about  twenty  friends  and  rela- 
tives, who  were  greatly  edified  by  his  prayers  and 
patience  during  his  last  sufferings.  He  found  much 
comfort  in  the  following  thoughts,  which  he  had  writ- 
ten down  in  Latin  on  a  piece  of  paper  :  on  one  side, 
"  Thou  slialt  be  free  from  sin,  free  from  cares,  and 
from  the  fury  of  theologians  ;"  on  the  other  side  : 
"  Thou  shalt  come  into  the  light,  thou  shalt  see  God 
and  behold  the  Son  of  God  ;  thou  shalt  learn  those  won- 
derful mysteries  which  pass  our  comprehension  in  this 
life,  as  the  cause  of  our  creation  and  present  condition, 
the  mystery  of  the  union  of  the  divine  and  human  nature 
in  Christ."  His  sole  care  was  not  for  himself,  but  for 
the  unity  and  peace  of  the  Church.  When  Professor 
Peucer,  his  son-in-law,  asked  him,  a  few  hours  before 
liis  departure,  whether  he  desired  anything,  he  answered  : 
"  Nothing  but  heaven." 

His  last  audible  words  were  a  hearty  yea  and  amen  to 
the  prayer  of  the  Psalmist  (Ps.  xxxi.  5),  recited  by  one  of 
his  colleagues  :  "  Into  Thine  hand  I  commend  my  spirit  : 
Thou  hast  redeemed  me,  O  Lord,  Thou  God  of  truth  !" 

During  the  polemical  era  of  the  seventeenth  century 
Melanchthon's  name  was  under  a  cloud.  But  with  the 
revival  of  evangelical  theology  in  the  nineteenth  century 
his  memory  was  revived.  On  April  9th,  1860,  the  tri- 
centennial  celebration  of  his  death  was  held  with  great 
enthusiasm  throughout  Protestant  Germany.  At  Wit- 
tenberg, where  "he  lived,  taught,  and  died"    (as  the 


HIS   PUBLIC   CHAKACTER   AXD   SERVICES.  123 

inscriptioti  on  his  house  reads),  the  corner-stone  of  a 
noble  monument  to  his  memory,  erected  at  the  side  of 
that  of  Luther,  was  laid  on  that  occasion  in  the  name  of 
the  King  of  Prussia,  by  his  brother,  the  Prince  Eegent, 
now  Emperor  of  Germany.  The  festival  oration  was 
delivered  by  the  venerable  Dr.  Nitzsch,  of  Berlin,  the 
last  surviving  professor  of  the  once  famous  University 
of  Wittenberg,  now  merged  in  that  of  Halle.  There  is 
now  no  Protestant  divine  of  any  weight  in  Europe  or 
America  who  does  not  pronounce  the  name  of  Melanch- 
tlion  with  veneration  and  gratitude. 

niS    PUBLIC    CHAEACTEE   AND    SERVICES. 

Melanchthon  is  the  model  of  a  Christian  scholar.  He 
combined  the  highest  scientific  and  literary  culture  which 
was  attainable  in  his  age,  with  an  humble  and  childlike 
Christian  faith.  Love  to  God  and  to  man  and  supreme 
regard  to  truth  animated  and  controlled  his  studies  and 
whole  life. 

He  was  emphatically  the  theologian  of  the  Lutheran 
Church,  and  posterity  gave  him  the  honorable  title 
^^  Prceceptof  Germanuey  He  was  a  man  of  thought, 
not  of  action.  Luther  was  great  in  both,  and  in  this 
resembled  St.  Paul.  Luther  produced  ideas,  and  ex- 
jjressed  them  very  clearly,  with  original  force  and  fresh- 
ness, but  not  in  logical,  systematic  form,  and  often  with 
too  great  polemical  vehemence,  and  regardless  of  their 
connections  and  consequences.  He  did  not  fear  to  con- 
tradict himself,  and  always  spoke  as  he  felt  at  the  mo- 
ment. Melanchthon's  mind,  though  far  less  vigorous 
and  original,  was  much  better  disciplined  and  propor- 
tioned, more  calm  and  circumspect. 

The  literary  fertility  of  Melanchthon  is  astounding. 
His  works  fill  twenty-eight  large  volumes  of  the  Cor- 


124  MELANCHTHON". 

jpus  Reformatorum,  edited  by  Bretschneider  and  Bind- 
seil  (1836-60).  They  embrace  theology,  philosophy, 
philology,  nielhodology,  and  the  science  of  education. 
He  wrote  a  large  number  of  manuals,  dissertations,  ora- 
tions, polemical  tracts,  church  ordinances,  counsels,  pref- 
aces, and  letters. 

His  greatest  work  is  the  Atigshurg  Confession^  the 
most  important  and  most  generally  received  creed  of  the 
Lutheran  Church.  He  drew  it  up,  during  the  German 
Diet  of  1530,  with  the  utmost  care,  moderation,  and  con- 
scientiousness ;  and  he  afterward,  though  without  author- 
ity, improved  and  altered  it  in  the  edition  of  1540,  to 
make  it  acceptable  to  the  Reformed.  Hence  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  "  altered  "'  and  "  unaltered  "  Con- 
fession of  Augsburg.  The  former  has  often  been  sub- 
scribed by  German  Reformed  Churches  ;  also  by  Calvin, 
while  at  Strassburg  ;  but  it  was  disowned  l)y  orthodox 
Lutherans,  and  gave  rise  to  violent  disputes.  He  also  wrote 
\}iiQ  Apology  of  the  Aiigslnirg  Confession,  in  opposition  to 
t\\Q'Ro\Yi^\\  Refutation  I  and  it  likewise  gradually  as- 
sumed symbolical  authority  in  the  Luthej'an  Church.  It  is 
one  of  the  best  theological  treatises  of  that  excited  period. 

He  issued  the  first  Protestant  system  of  didactic  theol- 
ogy, under  the  title  Loci  Cominnnes  Rerxnn  Theolo- 
gicarum  (first  edition,  December,  1521).  They  pro- 
ceeded from  his  lectures  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
Although  very  defective  in  the  first  editions,  and  after- 
ward surpassed  by  Calvin's  Institutes^  the  book  is  re- 
markable for  its  simplicity,  clearness,  freshness,  and 
thoroughly  evangelical  tone.  Luther  thought  it  worthy 
of  a  place  in  the  canon.*     It  passed  through  five  revis- 


*  He  called  it  "  lihe.r  invidus,  non  solum  immortaUiale,  sed  et  canone 
ecdesiastlco  dignus." 


HIS    PUBLIC    CHARACTER    AND     SERVICES.  125 

ions  and  more  tlian  thirty  editions  before  the  author's 
death,  and  was  used,  long  afterward,  as  a  text-book  of 
didactic  theology  in  the  Lutheran  universities,  as  tlie 
"Sentences"  of  Peter  the  Lombard  had  been  used,  for 
the  same  purpose,  in  tlie  Middle  Ages.  Strange  that 
the  two  greatest  dogmatic  works  of  the  Reformation 
were  produced  by  lay  theologians  ;  for  neither  Melanch- 
thon  nor  Calvin  were  ordained  by  human  hands,  but 
both  fully  made  good  the  evangelical  principle  of  the 
general  priesthood  of  believers. 

Besides,  we  have  from  Melanchthon  a  number  of 
Biblical  Commentaries.  They  are  not  near  as  satisfac- 
tory as  one  might  expect  from  his  superior  classical 
attainments,  and  were  far  surpassed  by  those  of  Luther, 
Calvin,  and  Beza  ;  yet  they  were  extremely  poj^ular 
with  the  hearers,  and  served  a  valuable  purpose  in  bring- 
ing to  light  the  natural  sense,  and  evangelical  ideas  of  the 
Scriptures  in  support  of  the  cause  of  the  Reformation. 

Melanchthon's  theology  was  not  so  consistent  through- 
out as  that  of  Calvin,  who  had  a  more  philosophical  and 
logical  mind,  and  rose  at  a  more  advanced  period  of  the 
Reformation.  His  changes  may  be  regarded  as  an  evi- 
dence of  a  want  of  independence  and  stability  ;  but  they 
prove  also  the  flexible  and  progressive  character  of  his 
mind,  and  his  willingness  to  learn  and  improve,  even 
in  old  age,  and  honestly  to  retract  his  errors.  They 
grew,  moreover,  out  of  the  nature  of  the  Protestant 
movement,  in  its  first  stages,  which  was  not  the  result  of 
a  previous  calculation,  but  a  gradual  historical  process. 
Like  Luther,  Melanchthon  developed  his  system  before 
the  eyes  of  the  public,  keeping  pace  with  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Reformation  itself.  The  overbearing  influ- 
ence of  Luther,  too,  carried  him  unconsciously  to  many 
extreme  positions,  which  on  calmer  reflection,  especially 


126  MELANCHTHO^r. 

after  Luther's  death,  lie  felt  it  his  duty  to  modify. 
Wliile  Luther  held  fast  to  the  views  he  once  had  ac- 
quired, Melanchthon  subjected  his  views  to  constant 
revision  with  liis  expanding  knowledge.  His  theology 
was  in  perpetual  motion,  but  his  fundamental  religious 
convictions  and  his  love  to  Christ  remained  unchanged 
and  deepened  under  all  his  theological  changes. 

Thus  he  gave  wp  the  rigid  view  of  an  absolute  predes- 
tination of  good  and  evil,  which  he  had  expressed  in  the 
first  edition  of  his  JLoci  Tkeologici,  and  in  his  Com- 
mentary on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  (1523),  in  almost 
as  strong  terms  as  Luther  had  done  in  his  tract  on  "  The 
Slavery  of  the  Human  "Will,"  against  Erasmus  (1525). 
He  traced  the  adultery  of  David  and  the  treason  of  Judas, 
as  well  as  the  conversion  of  Paul,  to  a  divine  decree.  But 
in  the  later  editions  of  his  Zocl  he  adopted  what  has 
been  termed  the  synergistic  scheme  :  teaching  a  co-oper- 
ation of  the  preceding  divine  and  the  consenting  human 
will  in  the  work  of  conversion  and  sanctitication,  and 
throwing  the  responsibility  of  perdition  upon  the  dis- 
obedient will  of  the  sinner.  He  anticipated  in  part  the 
Arminian  theory,  which  half  a  century  after  his  death 
sprung  up  in  Holland.  He  also  modified  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  alone,  so  as  to  lay  greater  stress 
upon  the  necessity  for  good  works  than  he  or  Luther 
had  done  before — not,  indeed,  as  a  cause,  but  as  an  indis- 
pensable evidence  of  justification. 

These  changes  in  the  articles  of  predestination,  free- 
dom, and  justification  may  be  regarded  in  the  light  of 
a  concession  and  approach  to  the  Catholic  system,  with- 
out giving  up,  however,  the  essentially  evangelical  basis. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  the  sacramental  controversy,  he 
evidently  made  an  approach,  since  1534,  and  more  de- 
cidedly in  1510  (when  he  changed  the  tenth  article  of 


HIS   PUBLIC   CFARACTER   AND   SERVICES.  127 

tlie  Augsburg  Confession),  to  the  Reformed  type  of  doc- 
trine, by  relaxing  the  Lutheran  tlieorj  of  the  real  cor- 
poreal presence  of  Christ  in,  with,  and  under  the  elements 
of  the  Eucharist,  and  leaning  to  Calvin's  view  of  a 
spiritual  real  presence  and  fruition  of  Christ's  body  and 
blood,  by  faith.  For  reasons  of  prudence  and  from  love 
of  peace  he  declined,  in  his  old  age,  to  take  an  active 
part  in  the  renewed  sacramental  war  between  Westphal 
and  Calvin,  and  to  a  give  a  final,  unmistakable  expres- 
sion of  his  views  on  this  mysterious  subject.  He  hoped 
that  both  theories  might  be  tolerated  in  the  evangelical 
churches.  One  of  his  la&t  acts  and  testimonies,  in  the 
very  year  of  his  death,  was  a  protest  against  the  exclu- 
siveness  of  the  bigoted  Hesshiisius,  and  a  virtual  indorse- 
ment of  the  position  of  the  Reformed  party  at  Heidel- 
berg, which  immediately  afterward  triumphed  in  the 
Palatinate,  under  the  lead  of  his  favorite  pupil,  Zacliarias 
Ursinus,  the  Calvinist  Caspar  Oleviaflus,  and  the  pious 
Elector  Frederic  IH.  His  mild,  amiable,  and  peaceful 
spirit  breathes  in  the  Heidelberg  Catechism,  which  was 
prepared  by  these  divines  by  order  of  the  Elector  and 
became  the  doctrinal  standard  of  the  German  and  Dutch 
Reformed  Churches  in  Euroj)e  and  America. 

Melanchthon  thus  is  a  connecting  link  between  the 
Lutheran  and  Reformed  Confessions,  equally  honored  by 
both.  He  represents  the  spirit  and  aim  of  Christian 
union  on  the  basis  of  the  everlasting  gospel  as  revealed 
in  tlie  Xew  Testament  and  in  the  life  and  example  of 
our  Lord.     To  him  applies  the  beatitude  : 

"Blessed  are  the  peacemakers:  for  they  shall  be 
called  the  children  of  God." 


EEMIlsriSOETsfOES  OF  I^TEAI^DER. 


SKETCH    OF    HIS    LIFE."^ 

The  life  of  Neander,  "  the  Father  of  Church  History," 
was  spent  in  the  study  and  lecture-room,  among  books 
and  with  students,  but  is  not  without  romantic  interest, 
especially  his  youth.  He  had  a  strongly  marked  individ- 
uality above  most  of  his  contemporaries,  and  passed 
through  striking  changes  in  his  religious  experience. 


*  A  biograjihy  of  Neander,  though  long  expected,  is  still  a  desider- 
atum. The  task  was  intrusted  to  his  pupil,  Dr.  Schneider,  but  he 
never  found  leisure  to  carry  it  out.  We  have,  however,  important 
contributions,  viz.,  Neander's  Letters  to  the  poet  Chamisso  (in  Cha- 
misso's  works)  from  the  period  of  his  youth,  and  his  paper  which 
contains  a  sort  of  baptismal  confession  (1805,  first  piiblished  by 
Kling,  1851)  ;  Krabbe's  Charakteristik  Neaiider's  (Hamburg,  1852)  ; 
Hagenbach's  article  on  Neander's  Verdicnste  um  die  KircJiengeschichle 
(in  the  Sludien  und  Kriiiken,  1851)  ;  Ullmann's  admirable  Preface 
to  the  third  edition  of  Neander's  Kirchengeschiclde  (translated  in  the 
first  vol.  of  the  Am.  ed.)  ;  Professor  Jacobi's  Erinnerungen  an  Nean- 
der (from  one  of  his  faithful  pupils,  Halle,  1882)  ;  and  Uhlhorn's 
article  in  Herzog's  Encyklopa:die,  revised  ed.,  vol.  x.,  447-457 
(abridged  in  Schaflf-Herzog,  II.,  p.  1G12  sqq.).  The  author  of  these 
Jieminiscences  wrote  several  brief  sketches  of  Neander,  in  his  Klrch- 
enfreund  (1851)  ;  in  Germany,  its  Univcrs'dies  and  Divines  (Philadelphia, 
1857),  in  Appletons'  Am.  Gydopcedia,  and  in  Funk's  Ilomileiic  lievieio 
(New  York,  1885)  ;  but  this  is  fuller  than  any.  The  first  centennial 
of  Neander's  birth  will  no  doiibt  be  celebrated  in  1889,  as  the  cen- 
tennial of  Schleiermacher's  birth  was  celebrated  in  1868.  Then  we 
may  expect  a  number  of  commemorative  addresses,  and  perhaps  a 
full  biography  worthy  of  his  name. 


SKETCH    OF    HIS    LIFE.  129 

Ilis  original  name  was  David  Mendel.  He  was  born 
of  Jewisli  parents,  at  Gottingen,  on  January  17th,  1789 
(the  year  of  the  French  Revohition),  converted  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  baptized  at  Hamburg,  nnder  the  significant 
name  of  Neander  {vso?  avr/p,  Neiv-man),  in  his  seven- 
teenth year,  on  February  15th,  1806. 

He  received  his  chissical  education  in  the  Gymnasium 
(Jolianneum)  at  Hamburg  (1803-1806),  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  learned  John  Gurlitt.  He  at  once  attracted 
the  attention  of  teachers  and  students  by  the  contrast  be- 
tween his  appearance  and  attainments.  He  had  hardly 
body  enough  to  slielter  his  mind.  He  looked  like  a  sim- 
pleton, and  yet  toolc  tlie  lead  of  his  class  in  industry  and 
progress.  His  memory  was  extraordinary,  and  he 
soon  became  as  familiar  with  Latin  and  Greek  as  with 
his  native  tongue.  The  thoughtless  indulged  in  sports 
at  his  expense,  but  he  ignored  them,  and  lived  in  a  world 
of  abstraction.  It  is  related  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  the 
master  theologian  of  the  Middle  Ages,  that  he  was  de- 
spised by  his  fellow-students  and  called  hos  mutus ;  but 
after  he  ojiened  his  mouth  in  an  academic  disputation, 
his  teacher,  Albertus  Magnus,  exclaimed  :  "  We  call  him 
the  mute  ox,  but  his  voice  will  soon  be  heard  throughout 
the  world  !"      And  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled. 

iSTeander  stood  a  brilliant  examination  when  he  left 
college,  and  deliv^ered,  April  30th,  1805,  with  clear, 
sonorous  voice,  a  parting  address,  De  Judmis  optima  con- 
ditione  in  civitatem  recipiendis.  He  then  entered  the 
academic  department  of  the  Jolianneum,  to  prepare 
more  thoroughly  for  the  University.  His  mother  wished 
him  to  become  a  merchant,  for  which  calling,  although  a 
Jew,  he  was  absolutely  unfit.  He  himself  first  intended 
to  study  law,  like  Luther  and  Calvin,  but  soon  M'isely 
exchanged  it  for  theology,  and  stuck  to  it.     Being  very 


130  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

poor,  he  was  supported  bj  Dr.  Stieglitz  and  a  scliolarsliip 
which  Gurlitt  "secured  for  him. 

From  1806  to  1809  he  pursued  his  studies  in  the  Uni- 
versities of  Ilalle  and  Gottingen.  In  Ilalle  the  mighty 
genius  of  Schleiermacher  introduced  him  into  the  princi- 
ples of  Christian  dogmatics  and  ethics  ;  but  the  suspen- 
sion of  the  University  by  Napoleon,  after  the  battle  of 
Jena,  compelled  him  to  flee.  lie  travelled  with  Neu- 
mann on  foot  to  Gottingen,  where  he  arrived  fatigued 
and  pennyless,  but  was  kindly  received  by  Gesenius,  the 
eminent  Hebrew  scholar.  He  attended  chiefly  the  lect- 
ures of  Planck,  the  pragmatic  historian  of  the  doctrinal 
controversies  in  the  Lutlieran  Cliurch,  to  whom  he  after- 
ward dedicated,  with  filial  gratitude,  a  volume  of  his 
Church  History.  116'  was  urged  by  him  to  remain  in 
Gottingen  as  Bepetent,  and  to  devote  himself  to  the 
academic  career. 

But  Neander  returned  to  Hamburg,  and  was  exam- 
ined for  the  ministr3^  He  preached  his  first  sermon  at 
Wandsbeck,  near  Hamburg,  on  the  Divine  Logos  (John 
1:1);  but  he  was  evidently  better  fitted  for  the  chair 
than  the  pulpit.  At  one  time  his  manuscript  flew  down 
upon  his  hearers,  but  he  preached  on  as  if  notln'ng  had 
happened.  His  favorite  study  was  now  the  Gospel  of 
John.  His  friendship  with  Claudius  of  Wandsbeck  led 
him  more  deeply  into  practical  Christianity.  In  1810  he 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Swabian  poets  Karl  Mayer, 
Gustav  Schwab,  and  Justinus  Kerner, 

In  the  autumn  of  1810  he  went  to  Heidelberg,  and  his 
mother  and  sisters  soon  followed  him,  to  take  care  of  his 
feeble  health.  In  the  following  year  he  began  his  aca- 
demic career  as  Privatdocent  of  Theology  in  that  Uni- 
versity, on  the  banks  of  the  JSTeckar,  with  a  dissertation 
on  the   relation  between  knowledge   and  faith,  as  con- 


SKETCH   OF  niS  LIFE.  131 

ceived  bj  Clement  of  Alexandria.  In  1S12  he  was  al- 
ready made  Professor  Extraordinary,  and  published  a 
monoi^raph  on  Julian  the  Apostate.  This  book  settled  at 
once  his  vocation  as  an  historian  of  the  Christian  religion. 

In  1813,  yet  a  youtli  like  Melanchthon,  whom  he 
strongly  resembles  in  other  respects  also,  he  received,  at 
Schleiermacher's  suggestion,  a  call  as  Professor  of 
Church  History  in  the  University  of  Berlin,  which  had 
been  founded  a  few  years  before  (1810).  This  youngest 
of  the  German  Universities  rose  with  unexampled  rapid- 
ity to  the  first  rank  through  the  fame  of  eminent  teachers 
in  every  branch  of  science  and  literature,  such  as 
Schleiermacher,  Neander,  Marheineke,  De  Wette,  Tho- 
luck,  Ilengstenberg,  in  theology  ;  Fichte,  Hegel,  Schel- 
ling,  in  philosopliy  ;  Buckh,  and  Lachmann,  in  classical 
philology  ;  Savigny,  and  Stahl,  in  jurisprudence  ;  Pitter, 
in  geography  ;  Panke,  in  history,  the  last  survivor  of 
that  wonderful  galaxy. 

Neander  labored  in  Berlin  as  lecturer  and  writer,  by 
doctrine  and  by  example,  incessantly  till  his  death,  on 
the  lith  of  July,  1850.  Only  now  and  then  he  broke 
the  uniformity  of  his  existence  by  a  vacation  trij),  in 
company  with  his  sister  or  with  some  student,  for  the 
benefit  of  his  feeble  health,  and  to  consult  rare  books 
and  unpublished  manuscripts  in  the  libraries  at  Vienna, 
Munich,  and  other  cities.  On  these  journeys  he  usually 
had  with  him  a  trunk  full  of  church  fathers,  "  for  a  little 
reading  on  the  way."  He  led  the  life  of  a  learned 
Benedictine  in  the  midst  of  a  noisy  city.  He  had  always 
a  crowded  lecture-room,  and  was  the  most  popular  and 
useful,  as  well  as  the  most  esteemed  and  beloved  profes- 
sor of  that  great  University  during  its  first  half  century. 
His  chair  has  never  as  yet  been  filled  by  a  successor  of 
equal  power  and  influence. 


132  REMINISCENCES   OE   NEANDER. 


NEANDER  S   TRAINING    FOR    HIS    WORK. 

Behind  the  simple  framework  of  Lis  outer  existence 
lay  bid  a  ricli  intellectual  and  spiritual  life.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  follow  its  gradual  development  on  to  full  matu- 
rity, and  to  trace  the  different  influences  whicli  led  him 
to  his  peculiar  theological  standj)oint  and  his  calling  as 
an  historian  of  Christianity. 

Among  these  influences  we  must  first  mention  his  de- 
scent from  that  wonderful  people  which  was  intrusted 
with  the  oldest  revelations  of  God,  and  which,  like  the 
bush  of  Horeb,  shines  and  burns  in  history  without  being 
consumed.  His  father  was  a  common  Jewish  peddler 
and  usurer,  and  neglected  to  provide  for  his  family. 
But  his  mother,  Esther  {iiee  Gottschalk),  was  a  respect- 
able, pious,  and  agreeable  Jewess,  and  related  to  the 
philosopher,  Moses  Mendelssohn,  of  Berlin,  and  the 
Medical  Counsellor,  Dr.  Stieglitz,  of  Hanover.  Soon 
after  the  birth  of  David,  her  youngest  child,  she  sepa- 
rated from  her  worthless  husband,  removed  with  her  five 
children  to  Hamburg,  and  struggled  hard  to  sup23ort 
them.  Neander  cherished  her  memory,  and  no  doubt 
tliouo;ht  of  her  when  he  described  the  mouldinp;  iiiflu- 
ence  of  pious  mothers  upon  the  ancient  fathers.  He 
ever  regarded  Hamburg  as  his  proper  home,  and  gave  it 
a  substantial  proof  of  affection  at  the  great  fire  of  1842, 
by  a  liberal  contribution  of  one  thousand  Prussian  dollars 
for  the  relief  of  the  sufferers.  Gottingen,  his  real  birth- 
place, he  called  "  Philistropolis."  His  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, and  finally  also  his  mother,  left  the  synagogue  and 
embraced  the  Christian  religion.  His  sister  Hannah  ac- 
companied him  as  a  guardian  angel  through  life.* 


*  His  oldest  brother,  Dr.  Andr.  K.  Joh.  Mondcl,  born   1780,  an 


neander's  training  for  his  work.  133 

If  tliere  ever  was  a  sincere  and  intelligent  convert  from 
Judaism  to  Christianity  it  is  Neander.  The  new  name 
wliich  he  assumed  at  his  baptism  in  1806,  was  Johann 
August  Wiliielm  Neandee,  in  memory  of  Johann 
Gurlitt,  his  teacher,  August  Yarnhagen  von  Ense,  and 
Wilhelm  Neumann,,  his  friends  who  assisted  as  sponsois. 
Ilis  chief  name  expressed  at  the  same  time  the  fact  that 
he  had  become  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus.  lie  be- 
longs to  the  line  of  converts  which  begins  with  Paul  of 
Tarsus.  His  transition  was  less  abrupt  and  radical 
than  tliat  of  the  former  persecutor,  but  he  resembles  the 
Apostle  of  tiie  Gentiles  in  purity  of  motive,  strength  of 
conviction,  unselfish  devotion  to  the  religion  of  his 
choice,  and  zeal  for  the  freedom  in  Christ  from  the 
bondage  of  legalism,  as  also  in  the  weakness  (if  not  the 
awkwardness)  of  his  "  bodily  presence"  (2  Cor.  10  :  10). 
Tie  bore  the  heavenly  treasure  in  an  earthen  vessel. 
When  the  King  of  Prussia  once  asked  him,  "  What  is 
the  best  evidence  of  Christianity  ?"  he  is  said  to  have 
replied,  "  The  Jews,  yonr  Majesty." 

The  second  controlling  clement  in  his  training  was  the 
philosophy  of  Plato,  which  of  all  heathen  philosophies 
approaches  nearest  to  the  gospel,  and  aided  in  the  con- 
version of  Justin  Martyr,  Augustin,  and  other  ancient 


esteemed  physician,  was  baptized  June  25th,  1806,  and  died,  un- 
married,  of  typhoid  fever.  His  second  brother,  a  travelling  merchant, 
had  been  baptized  two  years  before  Neander,  and  died  insane,  as  also 
his  sister  Betty.  The  oldest  sister,  Henriette  Scholz,  born  1777,  em- 
braced Christianity  in  1807.  His  second  sister,  Hannchen,  born 
1782,  was  baptized  on  March  22d,  1807.  The  youngest  sister,  Bettj', 
born  1788,  became  a  Christian  on  November  7th,  1809,  and  finally  the 
mother  professed  the  same  faith  in  1810,  shortly  before  Neander' s 
removal  to  Heidelberg.  Bee  Kling,  in  Uilmann's  "  Studien  und 
Kritiken,"  1851,  p.  516  sqq.  I  knew  personally  Mrs.  Scholz  and 
her  daughter,  and  Hannchen  Neander. 


134  EEMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

fathers.  It  fulfilled  a  similar  office  in  Neander.  It 
kindled  in  him  an  enthusiasm  for  the  ideals  of  truth, 
beauty,  and  goodness.  William  Neumann,  his  fellow- 
student  in  the  academic  college  at  Hamburg,  wrote  of 
liim,  February  11th,  1806  :  "  Plato  is  his  idol  and  never- 
ceasing  war-cry.  He  sits  day  and  night  over  him,  and 
there  are  few  who  received  him  so  fully  and  with  such 
purity  of  soul.  Upon  the  world  round  about  he  looks 
with  supreme  contempt."  Next  to  the  Dialogues  of 
Plato  he  admired  and  studied  the  moral  treatises  and 
biographies  of  the  noble  Plutarch.  He  joined  with 
sympathizing  friends  a  philosophico-poetical  society 
under  the  name  of  the  "  Polar  Star"  {to  rov  noXov 
affrpov),  and  explained  in  the  evening  meetings  Plato 
and  Sophocles. 

He  was  also,  like  Schleiermacher,  in  early  contact  with 
the  Romantic  school  of  the  two  brothers  Schlegel,  Tieck, 
and  Novalis,  which  revived  the  poetry  and  religion  of 
the  Middle  Ages  in  opposition  to  the  cold  and  dreary 
scepticism  of  the  times. 

But  the  Platonic  idealism  and  Romantic  sentimental- 
ism  could  not  satisfy  his  mind.  He  found  rest  in  a  solid 
Christian  realism. 

Last,  though  not  least,  we  must  mention  the  stimulat- 
ing influence  of  Schleiermacher,  the  German  Plato,  who, 
by  his  Discourses  on  Beligion  (1799),  like  a  priest  in  the 
outer  court  of  nature,  conducted  so  many  of  the  noblest 
and  most  gifted  youths  of  Germany  out  of  the  dry  heath 
of  the  then  dominant  Rationalism  to  the  garden  of 
Revelation.  Ncander  read  his  Discourses,  and  Mono- 
logues with  enthusiasm,  before  he  heard  his  lectures  at 
Halle.  He  stood  indebted  to  him,  as  he  himself  cheer- 
fully acknowledged,  for  manifold  quickening  impulses, 
and  they  remained  good^'riends  as  colleagues  through 


neandek's  training  for  nis  work.  135 

life,  althoiigli  tlioy  differed  in  weighty  points.  Neander 
liad  a  much  stronger  sense  of  sin,  and  no  sympatliy  with 
pantheism,  and  was  more  positive  and  realistic  in  his 
religions  convictions.  He  was  inferior  to  Schleiermacher 
as  an  original  thinker  and  system -builder,  but  surpassed 
him  as  a  regenerator  of  practical  religion  among  the  stu- 
dents of  Germany.  Schleiermacher  was  admired  and 
feared  ;  Neander  was  esteemed  and  beloved.  Schleier- 
macher stimulated  the  intellect  ;  Neander  moved  the 
heart.  He  announced  to  his  students  the  death  of 
Schleiermacher,  February  12th,  183-4,  with  these  words  : 
"  To-day  the  man  passed  away  from  whom  in  future  a 
new  epoch  in  theology  wnll  be  dated."  They  remind 
one  of  the  way  in  which  Melanchthon  announced  in  the 
lecture-room  the  death  of  Luther. 

The  fermentation  produced  in  his  mind  by  these  vari- 
ous influences  is  reflected  in  an  unripe  but  very  remark- 
able essay  from  his  pen,  which  he  addressed  to  a  pastor  in 
Hamburg  before  his  baptism,  and  which  Avas  first  pub- 
lished after  his  death  by  Dr.  Kling  in  1851.*  It  is  an 
attempt  to  trace  the  epochs  in  the  development  of  relig- 
ion, and  strangely  mixes  Platonism,  Komanticism,  and 
Christianity,  but  arrives  at  the  satisfactory  conclusion  : 
"  I  recognize  in  the  Christian  religion  the  absolute 
truth,  the  most  perfect  religion,  the  only  way  to  salva- 
tion."     He  passed,   as  it  were,  before  his   conversion, 


*  In  Ullmann's  Studien  und  KrU'iJcen,  1851,  No.  II.,  p.  4G0  sqq.  ; 
and  in  Schaff's  Deutsche  Kirchenfreund  for  1851,  p.  283-297.  The 
manuscript  bears  the  title  :  "  Ein  Versuch,  d'm  Religion  in  ihren  EnU 
wicklungsstnferi  dialeklisch  zu  eonstiniiren,"  with  the  marginal  note  of 
Pastor  Bossau  ;  "  Von  A.  Neander,  als  er  16  Jahre  all  uai:"  It  was 
handed  to  Bossau  by  Neander,  and  then  came  into  the  possession  of 
P.  Baring,  Bossau's  son-in-law,  who  lent  it  to  Dr.  Kling  for  publi- 
cation. • 


13G  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

tlirongli  the  world-liistorical  process  of  preparation  for 
the  advent  of  the  Saviour  of  mankind. 

Thus  was  Neander  fitted  out  for  his  life-work,  to  be  the 
historian  of  Christianity.  Moses  and  Plato  were  the 
tutors  who  led  him  to  Christ  and  enabled  him  to  view 
the  Christian  religion  as  the  fulfilment  of  all  the  nobler 
aspirations  of  the  Jewish  and  Gentile  world,  and  as  the 
final  and  perfect  religion  of  mankind.  Before  liiui 
church  history  had  been  degraded  by  German  Rationalism 
into  a  godless  history  of  human  errors  and  follies, 
l^eander  effected  a  revolution.  He  revealed  in  it  a 
golden  chain  of  manifestations  of  Christ's  truth  and  love 
and  a  fulfilment  of  His  promise  to  be  with  His  disciples 
to  the  end  of  the  world.  He  showed  it  to  be  a  contin- 
uous commentary  on  the  parable  of  the  leaven  which 
gradually  leavens  the  whole  lump  of  humanity.  He 
traced  the  footsteps  of  the  Hedseraer  in  all  His  followers. 
He  sympathized  with  everything  that  is  Christian, 
whether  he  found  it  in  the  Greek  or  Roman  or  Evangeli- 
cal churches,  or  among  persecuted  heretics.  He  had  no 
sectarian  or  partisan  zeal.  He  viewed  and  judged  all 
phenomena  from  the  Christological  centre.  Truth  and 
justice  were  his  sole  aim.  His  charity  was  as  broad  as 
humanity.  He  thus  made  church  history  a  book  of  in- 
struction, edification,  and  comfort,  on  the  firm  founda- 
tion of  profound  and  accurate  learning,  critical  mastery 
of  the  sources,  spiritual  discernment,  ps^^chological  in- 
sight, and  sound,  sober  judgment.  In  the  hands  of 
Rationalists  and  Deists  church  history  was  a  dreary 
desert.  Neander  changed  it  into  a  garden  of  God,  full 
of  flowers  and  fruits. 

In  his  large-hearted  Christian  sympathy  and  catholicity 
lies  his  chief  and  lasting  merit  as  an  historian.  It  makes 
him  a  blessinir  to  all  denominations.     The  earlier  vol- 


THE    OUTWARD    APPEARANCE.  137 

limes  of  liis  History  have  been  superseded  in  part  by  the 
rapid  progress  of  discovery  and  research  since  his  death, 
but  they  will  nevertheless  continue  to  be  a  mine  of  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  wealth  ;  while  the  spirit  of  evangel- 
ical catholicity  which  pervades  all  his  works  is  a  perma- 
nent gain  and  a  wholesome  stimulus  and  guide  to  every 
student  of  theology. 

But  we  do  not  intend  here  to  enlarge  on  his  writings, 
of  which  we  have  spoken  elsewhere.  We  confine  our- 
selves to  pei^sonal  reminiscences  of  what  he  was  as  a  man, 
as  a  teacher,  and  as  a  Christian. 

THE    OUTWARD   APPEARANCE. 

In  his  appearance,  to  begin  with  what  struck  every  one 
in  an  unusual  degree,  Neander  was  a  perfect  original — 
we  might  say,  one  of  the  rarest  natural  curiosities.  Yet 
his  uncommon  exterior  betokened  an  uncommon  interior. 
Even  his  clothing — a  well-worn  coat  of  ancient  cut  (we 
never  knew  him  to  wear  a  dress-coat)  ;  jack-boots  reach- 
ing above  the  knees  ;  a  white  cravat  carelessly  tied, 
often  on  one  side  of  the  neck,  or  behind  it  ;  an  old-fash- 
ioned hat  set  aslant  on  the  back  of  his  head — all  this 
presented  an  oddity  which  seemed  to  mock  the  elegant 
refinement  of  Berlin,  and  yet  he  was  greeted  respectfully 
by  everybody  who  knew  him,  from  the  king  to  the 
lounger  at  the  street-corner. 

lie  was  of  a  slender  bodily  frame,  of  middling  size, 
with  strongly  marked  Jewish,  though  at  the  same  time 
most  benevolent  and  good-natured,  features  ;  the  eyes, 
deeply  seated  and  full  of  fire,  were  overshadowed,  as 
with  an  umbrella,  by  an  unusually  strong,  bushy  pair  of 
eyebrows. 

Thus  he  sat  in  his  solitary  study  in  the  Markgrafen 
Strasse,  "No.  51,  surrounded  with  the  spirits  of  church 


138  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

fathers,  schoolmen,  mystics,  and  reformers,  whose  works 
lay  on  all  sides  in  learned  disorder — against  the  walls,  on 
the  floor,  on  tables  and  chairs — so  that  visitors  could 
scarcely  find  a  place  on  an  old-fashioned  sofa  for  sitting 
down  ;  while  the  way  out  into  the  dining-room  and  into 
the  decently  furnished  parlor  of  his  sister  led  over  the 
printed  monuments  of  bygone  ages. 

His  absolute  freedom  from  all  that  belongs  to  the 
show  of  vanity,  and  his  indifference  to  things  external, 
gave  occasion  to  ludicrous  anecdotes.  He  walked  once 
through  the  streets  with  a  broom  under  his  arm  instead 
of  an  umbrella.  Another  time,  in  the  lecture-room,  he 
took  a  brush  out  of  his  pocket  instead  of  his  note-book. 
Being  lost  in  the  streets,  he  called  to  a  cabman  to  take 
liim  home,  and  was  surprised  that  he  did  not  know  the 
number  of  the  house,  saying,  "  My  good  man,  I  thought 
yon  knew  it,  as  you  are  a  droschky  driver."  They 
waited  till  a  student  accidentally  arrived  and  relieved 
them  of  embarrassment.  When  the  tailor  brought  him 
a  new  pair  of  pantaloons,  he  put  them  on  over  the  old 
the  VvTong  way,  and  cut  off  one  leg  as  superfluous.  Once. 
he  set  off  for  the  university  in  his  dressing-gown,  but 
was  happily  fetched  back  by  his  amanuensis.  On  an- 
other occasion,  having  once  got  with  one  foot  into  the 
gutter,  he  hobbled  along  the  whole  length  of  the  street 
in  this  predicament  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  reached  home,  he 
sent  for  a  physician  to  cure  him  of  his  imaginary  lame- 
ness. Se  non  e  vero,  e  hen  trovato.  I  cannot  vouch  for 
these  funny  stories  ;  some,  no  doubt,  had  their  origin  in 
the  creative  imagination  of  his  students,  or  were  exag- 
gerations of  facts.  But  it  is  quite  certain  that  the  Ger- 
man professor  had  less  common  than  uncommon  sense, 
and  moved  in  an  ideal  world,  with  his  eyes  half  shut  to 
the  real  world  around  him. 


KEAJTDEE   IN"   THE    LECTURE-KOOM:.  139 


NEANDER   IiST   THE    LECTURE-EOOM!. 

Still  more  odd,  if  possible,  was  the  appearance  of  tlie 
good  man  on  the  rostrum.*  As  he  could  hardly  have 
found  the  way  by  himself,  and  must  have  been  put  in 
danger  by  the  moving  crowd  of  vehicles  and  men,  a  stu- 
dent accompanied,  him  from  the  Markgrafen  Strasse, 
passing  the  royal  library  and  the  Oj^era-platz  to  the  uni- 
versity building  unter  den  Linden.  From  the  reading- 
room,  where  the  professors  meet  during  recess,  he  pro- 
ceeded alone  into  his  lecture-room,  which  was  quite  close 
at  hand,  shooting  in  sideways  ;  he  seized,  first  of  all,  a 
couple  of  goose-quills,  which  most  be  regularly  laid  upon 
the  desk  beforehand,  to  keep  his  fingers  employed,  and 
then  began  his  lecture,  without  any  other  help  than  that 
of  some  illegible  notes  and  citations.  There  he  stood, 
constantly  changing  the  position  of  his  feet  ;  bent  for- 
ward, frequently  sinking  his  head,  and  then  again  throw- 
ing it  on  high,  especially  when  roused  to  polemic  zeal 
against  pantheism  or  formalism — at  times  threatening 
even  to  overturn  the  rostrum — but  all  the  while  spinning 
forth  from  his  mind  a  train  of  facts  and  ideas  with  intense 
earnestness,  or  unfolding,  with  penetrating  insight  and 
loving  sympathy,  the  development  of  a  Christian  doc- 
trine, or  the  principles  of  Christian  ethics,  or  the  spirit- 
ual character  of  a  great  and  good  man. 

The  whole  scene  was  so  strange  and  eccentric  that  one 
who  heard  him  for  the  first  time  could  hardly  contain 
himself  for  astonishment,  and  had  no  power  at  all  to  fol- 
low him  with  the  pen.  And  yet  the  earnestness  and  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  eccentric  professor,  the  extraordinary 


*  In  my  book  on    Gtrman   UniversUies  (1857)  I  gave  a  picturo   of 
Neander  in  the  lecture-room,  drawn  by  one  of  his  students. 


liO  REMINISCENCES    OF   NEANDEll. 

learning  and  profound  tliouglit  that  flowed  in  an  inces- 
sant stream  from  his  head  and  heart,  restrained  all 
laughter — nay,  his  personal  aspect  itself  had  always, 
even  on  the  first  acquaintance,  something  that  inspired 
reverence  and  at  the  same  time  called  fortli  confidence 
and  love.  In  a  short  time,  moreover,  one  grew  accus- 
tomed to  his  strange  exterior,  the  comical  form  vanished 
before  its  own  solid  contents,  and  served  only  to  make 
him  the  object  of  higher  admiration.  For  Neander  all 
this  was  perfectly  natural,  without  the  remotest  thought 
of  effect.  Altogether  there  never  was  a  man  more  free 
from  affectation  and  ostentation. 


HOME    LIFE. 

All  these  singularities  of  his  outward  appearance  indi- 
cated that  he  was  a  stranger  on  this  eaj'th,  and  that  he 
was  formed  wholly  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Plis 
ignorance  of  worldly  life  and  business,  his  freedom 
from  the  temptations  of  vanity,  his  superiority  to  much 
that,  for  others,  forms  an  indispensable  need,  his  in- 
difference toward  the  material  side  of  existence,  fitted 
him  for  his  purely  inward  calling  and  for  undisturbed 
communion  with  the  quiet  spirit-world  of  the  past. 

"  He  was,"  as  Hase  characterizes  him,  "  a  monk  in 
his  habits,  poor  for  himself,  rich  for  others."  His  wants 
were  very  few.  He  was  as  a1)stemious  in  practice  as  an 
ancient  ascetic,  but  liberal  in  theory,  and  very  hospitable. 
He  entertained  the  students  once  a  week  at  the  tea-table, 
and  often  gave  dinner-parties  to  friends,  talking  theology, 
while  they  enjoyed  the  dinner,  and  listened  to  his  wisdom. 

He  was  never  married,  and  consecrated  his  whole 
time  to  the  service  of  the  Lord,  as  an  eunuch  for  the 
kingdom  of  God's  sake  (Matt.  xix.  12).     He  belonged 


HANNAH    NEANDER.  141 

to  the  exceptions,  for  whom  the  life  of  celibacy  is  .a 
moral  clutj,  and  the  means  of  greater  activity  and 
success,  as  it  was  for  Paul  and  Barnabas.  A  lady  friend 
once  jokingly  suggested  a  companion  to  him  ;  he  looked 
perplexed,  and  asked  :  "  How  could  I  find  time  for 
courting  ?"  An  American  pro-slavery  divine  created 
considerable  merriment  at  Neander's  dinner-table  when 
lie  asked  him,  whether  he  would  be  willing  by  marriage 
with  a  colored  wotnan  to  give  practical  proof  of  his  doc- 
trine of  equality,  which  he  so  emphatically  asserted. 

HANNAH   NEANDER. 

Instead  of  a  wife,  however,  God  had  given  him  a  true 
female  companion  in  the  person  of  an  unmarried  sister, 
who  sacrificed  a  youthful  attachment  for  his  sake,  fol- 
lowed him  from  Judaism  to  Christianity,  assumed  the 
care  of  his  modest  wants  with  the  most  tender  devotion, 
attended  him  almost  daily  in  his  walks  unter  den  Linden 
and  in  the  Thiergarten,  kept  him  informed  about  tlio 
latest  German  and  English  novels,  and  with  kind  hospi- 
tality entertained  his  numerous  friends  and  pupils. 

Sister  Hannah,  or  Hannchen,  was  also  highly  peculiar  : 
like  him,  intensely  Jewish  outside  and  intensely  Christian 
inside  ;  highly  intellectual,  not  wanting  in  genuine  wit  and 
literary  culture,  but  at  the  same  time  a  good  housekeeper 
and  altogether  a  very  sensible,  practical  person,  supplying 
thus  her  brother's  defect.  When  she  brought  him  his 
breakfast  or  a  glass  of  water,  he  knew  that  he  must  be 
hungry  or  thirsty  ;  when  she  gave  him  medicine,  he  took 
it  like  a  child  ;  when  she  provided  for  him  a  new  suit,  he 
put  it  on,  unless  she  forgot  to  take  away  the  old  one. 

The  peaceful  and  innocent  living  together  of  this  orig- 
inal pair,  called  the  "  Neander  children,"  had  in  it  some- 


1-12  REMIlsriSCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

thing  uncommonly  toncliing,  and  no  one  could  mistake 
the  wise  hand  of  Providence  in  their  connection,  for 
the  accomplishment  of  the  great  spiritual  work  to  which 
JS^eander  bad  been  predestinated. 

Miss  Hannah  Keander  survived  her  brother  four 
years.  I  saw  her  last  on  a  visit  to  Berlin,  in  the  spring 
of  1854,  sitting  before  his  bust,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
indulging  in  reminiscences  of  their  happy  life,  and  long- 
ing to  join  him  in  the  better  world.  It  was  a  most 
affecting  interview.  A  few  weeks  afterward  her  mortal 
remains  were  laid  beside  those  of  her  brother  in  the 
Jerusalem  Cemetery  of  Berlin,  to  rest  till  the  day  of 
resurrection. 

NEANDER    AS    A   TEACHER. 

Neander  was  an  enthusiastic  teacher.  Ho  had  that 
rare  personal  magnetism  which  drew  the  hearers  irresis- 
tibly into  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and  made  them 
forget  everything  else.  Pie  prepared  himself  most  care- 
fully for  his  lectures,  and  threw  his  whole  soul  into 
them.  He  was  totus  in  illis.  He  made  the  labors  of 
authorship  subservient  to  his  immediate  dut}^  as  profes- 
sor. He  gave  the  students  the  best  results  of  his  im- 
wearied  studies  in  ever  fresh  reproduction  and  adaptation 
to  the  times.  He  tried  to  reach  their  heart  as  well  as 
their  intellect,  and  first  and  last  to  lead  them  to  Christ,  as 
the  pure  source  of  all  wisdom.  His  own  self  was  ab- 
sorbed in  the  cause.  He  impressed  them  with  the  con- 
viction :  here  is  a  thoroughly  learned  and  thoroughly 
good  man,  who  speaks  from  the  overflowing  fullness  of 
knowledge  and  experience,  with  the  single  purpose  of 
promoting  the  glory  of  Christ  and  the  good  of  his  fel- 
low-men. His  lectures  were  inspiring  and  edifying  as 
well  as  instructive. 


NEANDER   AS   A   FRIEND   OF  THE   STUDENTS.  143 

What  lie  said  of  Sclielling  was  even  more  true  of 
liimself  :  "  He  awakened  in  the  German  youtli  that  love 
which  gives  wings  for  soaring  on  high  (the  i'pcoi  nrspo- 
cpvrop).''''  '^  Ilis  mission,  says  Ullmann,  was  "  to  light  up 
a  fire  in  the  soul  ;  and  hardly  any  other  teacher  has  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  it  so  well. ' ' 

Ko  wonder  that  the  students  were  enthusiastically  de- 
voted to  him  in  return.  As  often  as  his  birthday  came 
round  they  brought  him  some  suitable  present  and  a 
serenade,  to  which  was  added  not  unfrequently  a  grand 
torchlight  procession  ;  not  only  his  own  immediate 
pu]jils,  but  students  also  from  the  other  faculties,  join- 
ing with  lively  interest  in  the  occasion. 

NEANDEE   AS   A    FRIEND   OF   THE    STUDENTS. 

Ilis  interest  in  the  students  was  not  confined  to  the 
lecture-room.  He  had  toward  them  the  feelings  of  a 
friend  and  a  father,  as  well  as  a  teacher,  and  they  filled 
the  place  of  sons  who  were  denied  him. 

Never,  perhaps,  was  the  love  of  a  professor  toward 
his  pupils  so  deep  and  strong.  Tholuck  alone,  among 
contemporary  divines,  could  compare  with  him  in  this 
respect  ;  he,  too,  had  no  children,  but  a  most  excellent 
wife,  and  adopted,  as  it  were,  the  students  as  his  sons 
and  companions  on  his  daily  promenades  and  in  his  house. 

Neander  used  to  invite  as  many  students  as  his  room 
would  hold  to  tea  on  Saturday  evening.  He  led  the 
conversation  in  a  low,  deep  voice,  entered  with  aifection- 
ate  sympathy  into  their  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  an- 
swered their  questions,  while  playing  with  a  goose-quill 


*  See  his  dedicatory  preface  to  Sclielling  of  the  first  volume  of  his 
revised  Church  History,  which  appeared  in  1842,  after  Schelling's 
lectures  in  Berlin. 


144  EEMINISCENTCES    OF    NEANDER. 

or  kneading  a  bit  of  wax  in  his  fingers.  lie  never  used 
tobacco  in  any  form,  but  such  innocent  occupations  of  the 
hand  seemed  to  facilitate  the  movements  of  his  mind. 
The  venerable  Nitzsch,  his  friend  and  colleague,  had  the 
habit  in  the  lecture-room  to  unbutton  his  coat  from  bot- 
tom to  top,  then  to  take  a  jDinch  of  snuff,  and  slowly  to 
button  the  coat  again,  and  to  repeat  this  process  to  the 
end  of  the  lecture. 

AYhile  jS^eander  presided  over  the  theological  discus- 
sions, his  sister  attended  to  the  tea-table,  indulged  in  inno- 
cent small  talk,  harmless  jokes  and  merry  laughs,  pro- 
pounded riddles,  told  funny  anecdotes  and  marvellous 
ghost  stories,  or  asked  such  embarrassing  questions  as, 
"  Herr  Candidat,  are  you  engaged  to  be  married?"" 
Though  an  old-maid  herself,  her  heart  kept  young  and 
fresh,  and,  like  her  brother,  she  felt  most  at  home 
among  students.  Hospitable  as  he  was,  he  seldom  ac- 
cepted invitations,  and  then  only  for  the  sake  of  his  sister. 

The  professors  of  German  Universities  receive  a  part 
of  their  income  from  the  lecture  fees  of  students.  To 
get  a  remission  of  the  honorarium  from  ISTeander  was 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  ;  and  he  was  very  often 
imposed  upon  by  those  who  might  easily  have  paid 
the  small  sum.  The  Society  for  Sick  Students  in  Berlin, 
founded  by  his  pupils  on  his  birthday,  1826,  owed  its 
origin  to  him,  and  he  devoted  to  it  the  whole  profits  of 
some  of  his  writings  (his  Gelegenheltsschriften,  which 
passed  through  several  editions),  as  he  gave  the  copy 
money  he  received  for  other  works  to  Bible  societies. 
Every  one  in  want  or  need  found  in  him  a  sympathizing 
heart  and  liberal  hand. 

I  have  still  a  lively  remembrance  of  his  interest  in  a 
young  man  who  was  blind.  Earnestly  thirsting  after 
religious  knowledge,  the  youth  had  attended  his  lectures 


KEANDER    AS   A    FRIE:N"D    OF   THE    STUDEXTS.  145 

in  1840  on  church  history  and  exegesis,  and  spoke 
afterward  with  grateful  satisfaction  of  the  spiritual 
benefit  they  had  afforded  him.  When  Keander  heard 
of  his  poverty,  he  showed  great  emotion,  inquired  with 
staring  eyes  and  nervous  agitation  into  all  the  details,  and 
then  hurried  away  to  his  sister  to  procure  him  help.  I 
happened  to  be  in  his  study  at  the  time,  and  the  scene 
struck  me  the  more  deeply,  as  oSTeander,  by  reason  of 
his  total  lack  of  practical  tact,  had  himself  the  air  of  one 
perfectly  helpless  ;  and  witli  his  eager  readiness  to  assist 
want,  was  still  in  a  quandary  as  to  how  it  should  be  done, 
till  his  sister  or  amanuensis  came  to  his  relief.  And 
how  much  good  did  he  do  which  never  came  to  light  ! 
for  lie  was  the  man  precisely  to  abhor  all  show,  and  not 
let  his  left  hand  know  what  was  done  by  his  right. 

Neander  gave  toucliing  expression  to  the  tenderness 
of  his  friendship  in  his  dedicatory  prefaces,  and  especially 
in  his  memorial  tribute  to  Hermann  Hossel,  one  of  his 
favorite  and  most  promising  students,  who  died  in  the 
spring  of  life.  Another  proof  came  to  light  long  after 
his  death  in  a  letter  published  by  a  "  Septuagenarian  Sol- 
dier" in  the  Evangelical  Church  Gazette  of  Berlin  (Sep- 
tember, 1867).  This  soldier  when  a  young  man,  in  1823, 
called  on  Neander,  whom  he  knew  only  from  his  writ- 
ings, for  advice  and  comfort,  being  in  great  spiritual 
doubt  and  conflict.  The  professor  stopped  his  work, 
encouraged  the  stranger,  accompanied  him  down-stairs, 
and  wrote  to  him  the  following  effective  letter  of  com- 
fort : 

"  Mt  dear  Friend  :  My  thoughts  have  been  constantly  full  of  you 
and  of  your  condition  ever  since  I  became  acquainted  with  your 
■warm  heart,  and  my  heartiest  prayers  and  desires  ascend  to  heaven 
that  He,  from  whom  cometh  down  every  good  gift,  ."^nd  who  has 
promised  to  be  always  near  to  the  bruised  and  burdened  heart,  will 
give  you  His  peace,  and  that  He  will  heal  your  wounded  heart  with 


146  REMINISCEISrCES   OF    NEANDER. 

His  own  infinite  love,  so  richly  given  us  in  Christ  Jesus  !  This  will 
surely  be,  if  you  only  do  not  make  yourself  unhappy  ;  instead  of 
clinging  to  yourself,  let  your  thoughts  go  out  like  a  child  toward  Him, 
without  whom  you  cannot  indeed  feel  your  misery,  which  we  all,  aa 
poor  sinners,  share  with  you— and  let  yourself  be  led  by  Him.  He 
has  so  loved  you  that  He  gave  His  only  Son  for  you,  that  you  might 
have  eternal  life,  which  is  surely,  irreversibly  yours.  He  has  spared 
not  His  own  Son,  bxit  given  Him  up  for  you  ;  how  shall  He  not  with 
Him  give  j'ou  all  things  ?  Who  can  accuse  you  when  God  will  justify 
you  in  Christ  Jesus  ?  Who  can  condemn  you,  when  Christ  has  died 
for  you,  and  is  ever  at  the  right  hand  of  God  ?  Neither  tribulation, 
nor  distress,  nor  doubt,  nor  thoughts  which  rise  against  your  will, 
nor  power  of  darkness,  nor  hell,  can  separate  you  from  the  love  of 
God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

"  These  are  not  my  words,  but  the  words  of  God  Almighty,  spoken 
directly  to  you  in  the  Scriptures,  which  you  must  so  believe  and  fol- 
low as  that  you  can  laugh  at  your  gloomy  thoughts  ;  comforted  and 
joyful  in  your  trust  in  the  Almighty  Lord,  from  whose  hand  no  man 
can  pluck  you,  follow  your  calling  M^hich  He  has  committed  to  you. 
Childlike  obedience  is  the  sacrifice  well-i^leasing  to  God. 

"  I  cannot,  without  more  certaintj'  than  I  now  have,  answer  defi- 
nitely your  question,  whether  it  is  best  for  you,  in  your  present  con- 
dition, to  read  the  Idea  Fldei. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  you  are  now  in  a  state  to  comprehend  prop- 
erly a  consecutive  book  upon  religious  subjects  ;  whether  it  were 
not  better  to  give  yourself  up  to  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures,  alter- 
nately with  your  friends,  and  talking  about  it  with  them.  Do  not  in- 
dulge in  solitary  thought  ;  stir  yourself  up  in  the  society  of  pious 
friends,  and  talk  with  them  about  other  than  strictly  religious  mat- 
ters. Give  yourself  to  the  calling  which  God  has  intrusted  to  you. 
Could  you  not  also  be  associated  with  dear  Professor  Eitter,  whose 
affection  for  you  will  surely  not  fail  ? 

' '  I  am  always  at  your  service,  gladly,  with  all  that  our  God  gives 
me. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  undeserved  confidence,  and  once  more,  with 
my  whole  heart,  wish  for  you  the  blessing  of  the  Lord,  who  is  surely 
near  to  you,  in  as  great  a  measure  as  you  desire— as  He  is  to  all  who 
call  upon  Him  with  broken  hearts. 

"  With  my  whole  heart,  yours, 

"  Neandee." 


HIS  INTEREST  IN  FOREIGNERS.  147 


HIS   INTEREST   IN   FOREIGNERS. 

Neander's  sympatliy  knew  no  bounds  of  nationality 
and  creed.  As  he  was  ready  to  serve  every  German 
youth,  so  had  he  a  warm  M'elcomo  also  for  every  foreigner 
who  visited  him  as  a  theological  student,  or  as  a  friend 
of  the  kingdom  of  God.  In  Switzerland,  France,  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  and  America  there  are  many  worthy 
ministers  still  living  who  have  experienced  his  kindness 
and  hospitality,  and  hold  him  in  thankful  remembrance. 
Through  such  visits,  where  his  familiarity  with  the  French 
and  English  languages  did  him  excellent  service,  he  scat- 
tered noble  seed  into  distant  lands,  which  has  since 
sprung  up  in  quiet  stillness,  and  is  now  yielding  fruit  a 
hundredfold. 

For  Americans  he  had  a  certain  partiality,  as  the  free- 
dom of  the  church  and  religious  life,  undisturbed  by 
political  influence,  fell  in  specially  with  his  taste,  lie 
heartily  approved  the  voluntary  principle,  the  self-sup- 
port and  self-government  of  the  churches,  which  ruled 
in  the  apostolic  and  ante-Nicene  age.  lie  admired  the 
great  energy  and  progress  of  America,  but  he  often 
expressed  his  abhorrence  of  the  institution  of  slav^ery, 
and  was  at  a  loss  to  understand  how  it  could  be  tolerated 
and  even  defended  in  a  free  country  in  this  nineteenth 
centur}^  Nor  did  he  approve  of  sectarian  divisions 
and  distractions  ;  for  he  was  emphatically  a  man  for 
union,  and  sought  the  one  in  the  manifold  no  less  than 
the  manifold  in  the  one. 

Among  his  American  pupils  was  Dr.  Edward  Itobin- 
son,  the  pioneer  of  Palestine  exploration  ;  and  when  I 
first  met  him  in  New  York,  in  1814,  with  letters  of  in- 
troduction from  Neander  and   Ritter,  he   said   to  me  : 


148  EEMINISCENCES   OF   NEAISTDER. 

"  Of  all  men  I  ever  knew,  August  Neander  and  Hein- 
rich  Ritter  are  the  greatest  and  the  best." 

Neander's  library  was  transferred  to  American  soil,  and 
is  among  the  literary  treasures  of  the  Baptist  Theological 
Seminary  at  Rochestei',  N.  Y. 

CHAEACTEE    OF   NEANDER. 

Neander  presented  a  rare  combination  of  virtues  re- 
filled by  grace.  He  was  truly  an  an'ima  Candida^  an 
Israelite  without  guile,  like  Nathanael.  He  was  a  legiti- 
mate descendent  of  Abraham,  without  the  cunning  and 
selfishness  of  Jacob.  He  had  the  noble  traits  of  his 
Jewish  ancestry,  but  none  of  its  besetting  vices.  He 
was  a  Jew  in  his  outward  appearance,  but  a  genuine 
Christian  and  nobleman  within. 

His  characteristic  traits  were  simplicity,  generosity, 
humility,  and  love. 

He  presented  a  striking  illustration  of  the  words  of 
our  Lord — "  Except  ye  become  like  little  children,  ye 
shall  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  He  was  truly 
a  child  in  malice,  though  a  giant  in  knowledge.  His 
spirit  lay  clear  and  open  before  God  and  men.  He  had 
the  simplicity  of  the  dove,  without  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent.  He  gave  his  confidence  to  everybody,  and 
could  not  easily  believe  an  evil  report.  Hence  he  was 
often  deceived.  With  all  his  theoretical  knowledge  of 
human  nature  he  was  liable  to  err  in  the  aj^plication  to 
particular  persons.  As  has  been  said,  he  knew  man  bet- 
ter than  inen. 

We  liave  already  spoken  of  his  unselfish  devotion  to 
his  students  and  to  all  who  were  in  need  of  his  counsel 
and  help.  He  had  for  his  own  person  few  wants  ;  his 
clothing  was  of  the  plainest  sort  ;  his  moderation  in  eat- 


CHARACTER   OF   ^STEANDER.  149 

ing  and  drinking  reminded  one  of  the  lives  of  the  old 
ascetics  and  of  St.  Anthony,  who  felt  ashamed  of  the 
need  of  earthly  food.  By  reason  of  his  impractical  na- 
ture, moreover,  and  his  total  abstraction  from  the  world; 
he  was  indeed  wholly  ignorant  of  the  value  of  money, 
and  had  not  his  sister  taken  care  of  it,  he  would  no  doubt 
have  brought  himself  to  beggary  over  and  over  again  by 
sheer  benevolence.  In  this  respect  he  showed  not  a 
trace  of  his  Jewish  descent. 

Of  conjugal  love  he  knew  nothing  ;  and  yet  how 
highly  he  conceived  of  the  dignity  and  worth  of  woman  ! 
How  beautifully  he  has  portrayed  the  influence  of  pious 
mothers  upon  the  character  of  Gregory  ISTazianzen, 
Chrysostom,  and  Augustin  !  How  tenderly  devoted  was 
he  toward  his  sisters,  especially  to  that  one  who  gave 
herself  up  to  the  care  of  his  earthly  wants,  that  his  rich 
mind  might  be  consecrated  to  the  undisturbed  service  of 
religion  ! 

This  rare  character,  full  of  childlike  simplicity,  tender 
conscientiousness,  unwearied  professional  fidelity,  and 
warm,  self-sacrilicing  love — this  life  wholly  consecrated 
to  the  advancement  of  truth  and  piety — was  rooted  and 
secured  throughout  in  the  grace  of  humility.  Xeander 
kncv/  the  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  the  necessity 
of  its  redemption  in  Christ  ;  placed  himself  cheerfully  in 
tlie  great  concern  of  life  by  the  side  of  the  least  ;  with 
all  his  uncommon  learning  preferred  the  simple,  un- 
adorned preaching  of  the  gospel  for  poor  sinners  to  the 
most  brilliant  displays  of  rhetoric  ;  listened  on  Sunday, 
with  close  attention  and  devotion,  to  the  message  of  the 
foolishness  of  the  cross,  Avhicli  yet  puts  to  shame  all  the 
wisdom  of  this  world  ;  and  with  all  his  popuhirity  and 
his  world-wide  fame  never  allowed  himself  to  be  blinded 
by  vanity  and  pride.     He  remained,  to  the  last  breath, 


150  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

as  humble  as  a  child,  and  would  be  nothing  in  himself, 
but  all  only  in  and  through  Christ,  "  It  is  the  most 
difficult  of  all  arts,"  he  says  in  his  beautiful  essay  on 
Paul  and  James,  "  to  deny  and  to  empty  one's  self,  to 
become  nothing  in  ourselves,  in  order  that  we  may  be 
all  in  the  Lord  alone.  In  this  art  we  remain  pupils 
through  life,  but  it  brings  the  richest  and  most  glorious 
fruits  for  eternity.  Oh,  that  we  may  exclaim  with  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  '  I  have  been  crucified  with 
Christ ;  and  it  is  no  longer  1  that  liveth,  but  Christ  liveth 
in  me  !'  "  On  the  last  celebration  of  his  birthday,  when 
his  students  lauded  him  with  their  customary  enthusiasm, 
he  answered  with  a  touching  confession  of  his  sin  and 
weakness  and  entire  dependence  on  the  forgiving  mercy 
of  our  Saviour.  One  of  his  favorite  mottoes,  which  he 
wrote  in  my  album,  was,  "  Theologia  crucis,  non 
cjlorioi  f  and  according  to  this  motto  he  lived  till  life's 
frail  tenement  gave  way,  and  his  spirit  passed  into  the 
full  vision  of  the  crucified  One  in  glory. 

We  must  not  suppose^  however,  that  Neander  was  free 
from  human  frailty.  He  had  a  sensitive  and  irritable 
temper,  and  at  times  was  even  intolerant.  "With  all  his 
love  and  gentleness,  he  was  yet  capable  also  of  very  strong 
and  decided  aversion  and  indignation.  This  is  by  no 
means  unpsychological.  Hatred  is  only  inverted  love. 
The  same  force  that  draws  toward  it  what  is  in  harmony, 
rejiels  from  it  with  equal  determination  what  is  of  a  con- 
trary nature.  John,  the  disciple  of  love,  who  lay  on 
Jesus'  bosom,  was  at  the  same  time  "  a  son  of  thunder," 
and  ready  to  pray  down  fire  from  heaven  upon  the  en- 
emies of  his  Master  ;  yea,  according  to  ancient  story,  he 
forsook  a  public  bath  suddenly,  when  he  found  it  con- 
tained Cerinthns,  the  Gnostic  heretic.  Both  sides  of 
his  character  are  reflected  in  the  fourth  Gospel  and  in 


CHARACTER   OF  NEANDER.  151 

tlie  Apocalypse  ;  tlie  former  is  full  of  love  and  tender- 
ness ;  the  latter  resounds  with  thunder  and  lightning.  A 
similar  combination  of  mildness  and  harshness,  attracting 
love  and  repulsing  hatred,  was  characteristic  of  lieander. 
As  an  historian  he  could  do  justice  to  the  most  differ- 
ent tendencies,  and  took  even  heretics,  as  far  as  possible, 
into  his  protection  ;  but  when  kindred  manifestations 
came  l)efore  him  in  our  time  and  in  the  same  University 
he  showed  himself  impatient  and  intolerant,  at  least  in 
private  conversation.  He  M'as  often  morbidly  irritated 
and  passionately  excited  about  the  pantheistic  philosophy 
of  Hegel  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  stiff,  angular  ortho- 
doxy of  Hengstenberg  on  the  other.  Hegel  had  died  in 
1832,  but  his  philosophy  was  then  at  the  zenith  of  its 
power  and  influence  in  Prussia,  and  represented  by  Mar- 
heineke  in  the  theological  faculty.  Hengstenberg  was 
a  younger  colleague  of  ISTeander,  and  the  fearless  cham- 
pion of  orthodoxy  in  the  chair  and  in  his  writings. 
Neander  saw  in  these  opposite  tendencies  two  dangerous 
extremes,  which  threatened  to  rob  the  youth  of  Germany 
of  the  treasure  of  evangelical  freedom,  which  he  prized 
above  all  things.  From  the  Hegelian  philosophy  he 
feared  the  despotism  of  thought  ;  from  the  strict  ortho- 
doxy the  despotism  of  the  letter.  He  hated  the  one-sided 
intellectualism  and  panlogism  of  the  former,  the  narrow 
spirit  and  harsh  judgments  of  the  latter.  There  Chris- 
tianity seemed  to  him  to  lose  itself  in  the  clouds  of  ideal- 
ism, here  to  stiffen  into  dead  formalism.  Besides,  ho 
held  it  altogether  vain  to  seek  the  restoration  by  force  of 
any  past  period  of  the  Church  as  sucli,  or  to  dream  of 
infusino;  new  life  aojain  into  that  which  has  been  once  for 
all  judged  and  set  aside  by  the  course  of  history.  Yet, 
after  all,  he  had  a  sincere  personal  regard  for  Hengsten- 
berg, who  stood  firm  as  a  rock  against  the  waves  of  Ka- 


1^^  KEMINISCENCES   OF   KEANDER. 

tionalism,  and  who  fully  reciprocated  the  esteem  of  Nean  ''-1 
der.  He  never  indulged  in  personalities,  and  was! 
ahvajs  controlled  by  pure  motives  and  love  for  the  truth 

The  character  of  Neander  was  universally  esteemed^' 
and   admired.     True,    he  also  had  decided  theological 
enemies.   For  the  Orthodox  of  the  more  strict  class  he'was' 
in  many  points  too  lax  and  liberal  ;  for  the  Eationalist, 
too  positive  and  firm  ;  but  for  his  person  all  entertained!  ■ 
a  sort  of  sacred  veneration,  and  treated  him  with  more) 
mildness  and  forbearance  than  is  usual  with  such  dif- 
ference of  views.      Even    Strauss,  the  author    of  the 
mythical  theory  of  the  Gospel  history,  when  ^eandei 
came  out  m  strong  defence  of  the  gennineness  of  tlu 
(Tospel  of  John,  was  led  to  abandon  his  doubt  fora  whilf 
(in  the  third  edition  of  his  Leben  Jesit,  1837),  althouc.1 
when  he  saw  the  fatal  consequences  of  this  concession  h( 
returned  (in    the   fourth   edition,  1840)    to   his   formei 
sceptical  view. 

The   reasons   for   this   general  esteem   are   apparent. 
J^eander  s  deep  and  accurate  learning  were  not  sufficieni 
to  protect  him  against  the  "  fury  of  theologians."  What 
constituted  a  tower  of  strength  and  made  him  invulner- 
able was  his  all-controlling  love  of  truth  and  justice,  his 
modesty  and  humility,  his  moral  purity  and  integrity 
These    qualities   at    once   struck    even   the   superficial 
observer,  and  admitted  of  no  doubt,  for  he  always  showed 
liimseK  as  he  was,  without  any  concealment  or  reserva- 
tion.    An  attack  upon  his  character,    an  impeachment 
ot  his  motives,  could  have  sprung  only  from  stock-blind 
passion,  would  have  awakened  indignation  among  those 
who  knew  him,  and  so  must  have  resulted  almost  inevi- 
tably  in  the  moral  discomfiture  of  the  antagonist 


HIS   THEOLOGY.  153 


HIS    THEOLOGY. 

Neander  was  one  of  those  trnlj  great  men  with  whom 
.heorj   and   practice,  head    and   heart,    are   beautifully 
Mended.  Not  without  reason  had  he  chosen  for  his  motto  : 
'' Pectus  est,  quod  iheologum  facit.'^''     Marheineke  and 
he  Hegelians  contemptuously  called  him  the  jpectoral 
theologian.     lie  pursued  theology,  not  as  an  exercise  of 
the  understanding  merely,  but  also  as  a  sacred  occupa- 
tion of  the  heart,  which  he  felt  to  be  intimately  connected 
with  the  highest  and  most  solemn  interests  of  man,  his 
eternal  welfare  and  worth. 

The  living  centre  and  heart's  blood  of  theology  was 
for  him  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  highest  revelation  of 
a  holy  and  merciful  God,  as  the  fountain  of  salvation 
and  sanctifying  grace  for  the  world.  Whatever  he 
found  that  was  really  great,  noble,  good,  and  true  in 
history  he  referred,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  the  divine- 
human  person  of  the  Redeemer,  in  whom  he  humbly 
adored  the  central  sun  of  all  history  and  the  innermost 
sanctuary  of  the  moral  universe. 

There  are,  no  doubt,  more  orthodox  theologians  than 
Neander  ;  some  of  his  views  are  hazy,  and  lack  clear 
and  sharp  outlines  ;  he  was  more  profound  than  acute, 
more  comprehensive  than  definite.  He  was,  to  use  an 
Anglican  phrase,  an  evangelical  broad-churcliman.  "With 
all  his  regard  for  the  symbolical  books,  he  would  never 
confine  himself  to  their  measure,  and  conscientiously 
refused  to  sign  the  Augsburg  Confession.  But  there 
are  few  divines  in  whom  doctrine  was  to  the  same  ex- 
tent life  and  power,  in  whom  theoretic  conviction  had 
so  fully  passed  over  into  flesh  and  blood,  in  whom  the 
love  of  Christ  and  of  man  glowed  with  so  warm  and 
bright  a  flame.     In  this  unfeigned,  life-breathing  piet}^, 


154  RE1IINISCEN"CES  OF   NEANDER. 

which  had  its  root  in   Christ's  person  and  gospel,  and  I 
formed  the  foundation  of  his  theology,  laj  the  irresistible 
attraction   of   his   lectures   for   every   piously   disjiosed 
hearer,  and  the  edifying  character  of  all  his  writings.         l 

AVhile  in  this  practical  bent  of  his  theology  he  sym-  i 
pathized  with  the  pietistic  school  of  Spener  and  Francke,  ( 
which  asserted  just  this  practical  side  of  religion — the  \ 
rights  of  the  heart,  the  necessity  of  a  tlieologia  regenito- 
7'um,  over  against  a  lifeless  orthodoxy  of  the  intellect — ■ 
he  was,  on  the  other  hand,  far  removed  from  pietistic 
narrowness  and  bigotry.  His  extended  historical  studies 
had  served  to  enlarge  his  naturally  liberal  mind  to  the 
most  comprehensive  catholicity.  He  never  lost  his  sound 
and  simple  sight  for  the  main  object — the  life  of  Christ 
proceeding  from  a  supernatural  source^ — but  he  thought 
too  highly  of  this  to  compress  it  into  the  narrow  bounds 
of  a  human  formula,  or  some  single  tendency  or  school. 
He  saw  in  it  rather  such  an  inexhaustible  depth  of  sense, 
as  could  be  in  some  degree  adequately  expressed  only 
in  an  endless  variety  of  gifts,  powers,  periods,  and  na- 
tionalities. 

What  a  difference  is  there  not,  for  example,  between 
an  Origen  and  a  TertuUian,  a  Chrysostom  and  an 
Augustin,  a  Bernard  and  a  Thomas  Aquinas,  a  Luther 
and  a  Mclanchthon,  a  Calvin  and  a  Fenelon  ;  or,  when 
v/e  go  back  to  the  Apostolical  Church  itself,  between  a 
Peter  and  a  John,  a  James  and  a  Paul,  a  Martha  and  a 
Mary  !  And  yet  ISTeander  knew  how  to  trace  out  and 
greet  with  jo^'ous  gratitude  the  same  image  of  Christ 
variously  reflected  in  all.  He  had  little  interest  in  the 
secular  surroundings  and  artistic  ornaments  of  church 
history,  but  he  always  moved  in  the  deep,  and  brought 
out  the  internal,  spiritual  and  eternal  relations,  and 
traced  everywhere  the  pervading  and  sanctifying  influ- 


THE    LAST   BniTHDAY.  155 

ence  of  the  gospel  working  npoii  every  variety  of  temper 
and  constitution. 

The  wideness  of  his  heart  was  an  essential  element  in 
his  practical  piety.  Between  it  and  his  studies  there 
existed  a  relation  of  reciprocal  encouragement  and  sup- 
port. Thus  was  Keander,  in  the  noblest  sense,  a  friend 
of  man,  because  Christ's  friend  ;  at  home  in  all  spheres 
of  His  kingdom,  the  exact  imjDression  of  evangelical 
catholicity,  and  an  interpreter  of  the  precious  doctrine 
of  the  communion  of  saints,  which  transcends  all  limits 
of  time  and  sj^ace,  and  comprehends  all  the  children  of 
God  under  the  one  head — Jesus  Christ. 


THE    LAST   BIRTHDAY. 

Amono;  the  charmino;  features  of  German  and  Swiss 
family  life  are  the  annual  commemorations  of  birth, 
marriage,  and  other  family  events. 

Neander's  birthday  was  an  occasion  of  great  interest  to 
his  friends  and  students.  On  his  last  birthday,  Hannah, 
as  usual,  invited  a  large  company  to  dinner.  There  sat 
at  his  right  hand  the  court-chaplain  Ehrenberg,  his 
favorite  preacher  ;  at  his  left  the  philosopher  Schelling, 
who  in  his  old  age  created  a  literary  sensation  in  Berlin 
by  his  lectures  on  the  Pliilosophy  of  Mythology  and  the 
Philosophy  of  Bevelation,  and  broke  down  the  supremacy 
of  Hegel  ;  there  was  Prediger  Lisco,  another  of  his 
favorite  preachers,  the  author  of  The  Parahles  of 
Jesus  and  a  monograph  on  the  Dies  IrcB ;  his  col- 
league, Professor  Strauss,  the  court-chaj)lain,  and  friend 
of  his  youth  ;  his  other  colleague.  Dr.  ImmanuelNitzsch, 
a  homo  gravis,  and,  like  him,  denominated  one  of  the 
Church  Fathers  of  the  nineteenth  century  ;  Professor 
Piper,  one  of  his  early  pupils,  and  an  expert  in  Christian 


156  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

arcliseology  ;  Dr.  Trendelenburg,  Professor  of  Philosoplr 
in  tlie  University  ;  Dr.  Krummaclier,  the  hero   of   th' 
German  pulpit  and  author  of  Elijah  the  Tishlj'de  ',  Lachs 
the  Director  of  the  Deaf   and  Dumb  Institution  ;  Dr 
Julius,  an  enthusiast  for  prison  reform,  after  the  Penn 
sylvania   system  of  solitary  confinement  ;  and  Director 
Ranke,  brother  of  the  historian.     A  truly  illustrious  com- 
pany !     His    friends  and  colleagues,   Dr.  Twesten,  the 
successor  of   Schleierraacher,  Leopold    Ranke,  the  his- 
torian,  and  Ileinrich  Pitter,  the  founder  of  scientific 
geography,  were  also  usual  guests  of  Neander  on  such 
occasions,  but  I  do  not  find  their  names  on  the  list  of 
those  present  at  the  last  birthday  dinner. 

After  dinner  followed  the  customary  toasts.  The 
genial  Strauss,  who  excelled  in  sparkling  postprandial 
speeches,  eulogized  Neander's  Church  History,  but  an- 
nounced the  startling  news  that  he  was  not  the  sole  author 
of  it.  The  guests  looked  at  each  other  in  surprise  ; 
iS^eander  turned  on  his  chair  ;  Hannah  looked  indignant, 
when  Strauss  continued  :  "  Yes,  that  work  could  never 
have  been  written  without  a  helpmate,  and  that  helpmate 
is  among  us — Hannah  Neander,  the  most  devoted  of  sis- 
ters, who  relieved  him  of  care  and  anxiety,  that  he  might 
wholly  devote  himself  to  his  calling  ;  long  life  to  her  !" 
Strauss  laughed  heartily,  the  guests  shouted  applause,  and 
the  Neander  children  looked  at  each  other  with  a  com- 
placent smile. 

Toward  evening  friend  after  friend,  male  and  female, 
entered  the  parlor  with  hearty  congratulations.  Suddenly 
the  flickering  glare  of  a  torchlight  procession  was  seen 
in  the  street,  and  about  a  hundred  students  began  to  sing, 
with  clear,  strong  voices  :  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd  ; 
1  shall  not  want."  A  deputation  of  the  students  was 
admitted,  and  thanked  their  beloved  teacher  for  continu- 


SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  157 

iiig  his  lectures,  notwitlistanding  liis  bodily  infirniitj  and 
blindness.  They  were  forbidden  of  late  to  offer  him 
presents  of  books  or  ornaments  as  they  had  done  before, 
but  begged  him  to  accept  instead  a  liberal  donation  for 
his  "  Society  for  the  Relief  of  Sick  Students.' '  JSfeander, 
unable  any  more,  as  in  former  years,  to  address  the  sercn- 
aders  from  the  window,  expressed,  with  trembling  voice, 
his  thanks  to  his  "  dear  fellow-students  and  beloved 
friends,"  to  Avhose  fellowship  he  owed  his  youthfulness 
in  old  age,  and  then  most  heartily  shook  hands  with  every 
one,  as  they  came  up  by  his  request  from  the  street,  after 
throwing  their  torches  together  in  a  heap.  The  students 
parted  with  a  good-night  by  singing, 

^''Integer vitm  scelerisque  purus.'''' 

Tliis  last  birthday  of  Neander  on  earth  was  soon  to  be 
followed  by  the  celebration  of  his  first  birthday  in 
heaven. 

SICKNESS    AND    DEATH. 

Neander  had  a  frail  and  delicate  constitution.  In  the 
last  years  of  his  life  he  became,  in  a  peculiar  sense,  a 
theologian  of  the  cross,  with  the  painful  experience  that 
the  via  lucis  is  indeed  also  a  via  crucis.  Tie  was  doomed, 
like  the  illustrious  author  of  Paradise  Lost,  to  an 
almost  total  loss  of  sight,  long  before  weakened  by 
incessant  study.  His  faith  gave  him  power  to  bear  this 
calamity,  doubly  sev^ere  to  an  historian.  To  him  might 
be  applied  what  St.  Anthony  once  said  to  the  blind 
teacher,  Didymus  of  Alexandria  ;  "  Let  it  not  trouble 
thee  to  be  without  the  eyes  with  which  even  flies  can  see  ; 
but  rejoice  rather  that  thou  hast  the  eyes  that  angels  see 
with,  for  the  vision  of  God  and  His  blessed  light."  He 
could  say  what  was  said  of  Milton  : 


158  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDEIi. 

"On  my  bended  knee 

I  recognize  Thy  purpose,  clearly  shown  : 
My  vision  Thou  hast  dimmed,  that  I  might  see 
Thyself— Thyself  alone." 

Not  a  murmur,  not  a  sound  of  complaint  or  discontent^ 
passed  Neander's  lips  ;  and  in  tliis  way  the  crown  was 
set  npon  liis  character  bj  patience  and  quiet  resignation 
to  God's  will. 

lie  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  interrupted  in  his  work 
by  this  affliction,  and  showed  in  it  a  rare  power  of  will 
over  opposing  nature.  Not  only  did  be  continue  to 
hold  his  lectures  as  before  with  the  most  conscientious 
fidelity,  but  he  went  forward  unceasingly  also  in  his 
literary  labors,  with  the  help  of  a  reader  and  amanuensis. 
Nay,  even  within  a  few  months  of  his  death  lie  founded, 
in  connection  with  Dr.  Julius  Miiller,  of  Halle,  and  Dr. 
Nitzsch,  of  Berlin,  a  valuable  periodical  {Deutsche 
Zeitschriftfur  christliche  Wissenschaft  und  cJiristlichcs 
Lehen)^  and  furnished  for  it  a  numl^er  of  excellent 
articles  (such  as  a  retrospect  of  the  first  half  of  this 
century,  one  on  the  difference  between  Hellenic  and 
Christian  ethics,  another  on  the  practical  exposition  of 
the  Bible),  in  which  he  still  soared  with  unabated 
strength,  like  an  eagle. 

What  his  departed  friend  Schleiermacher  had  wished 
for  himself  in  his  Monologues,  and  afterward  actually 
received,  was  grnnted  also  to  Neander,  the  privilege 
namely  of  dying  in  the  full  possession  of  his  mental 
powers  and  in  the  midst  of  his  work.  Only  eight  days 
before  his  death,  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  from  Giitzlaff, 
who  was  regarded  by  many  as  "the  Apostle  of  the 
Cliinese,"  he  made  an  address  with  youthful  freshness 
on  the  Chinese  Mission,  and  looked  hopefully  forward  to 
the  future  triumphs  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  setting 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  159 

fortli  of  wliose  growth,  under  the  guidance  of  the  two- 
fold likeness  of  the  mustard-seed  and  leaven,  he  con- 
sidered the  great  business  of  his  own  life. 

On  the  following  Monday,  the  8th  of  July,  he  delivered 
his  last  lecture,  in  the  midst  of  severe  pain  from  an  attack 
of  sickness,  so  that  his  voice  several  times  failed,  and 
he  was  scarcely  able  with  the  help  of  students  to  come 
down  the  steps  of  the  rostrum.  But  notwithstanding 
this,  immediately  after  dinner,  which  he  hardly  touched, 
he  set  himself  again  to  dictating  for  the  last  volume  of 
his  Church  History^  which  was  to  describe  the  close  of 
the  Middle  Ages  and  the  preparation  for  the  Keforma- 
tion,  until  exhausted  nature  fastened  him  to  his  bed. 

Then  he  had  his  last  and  severest  trial  to  endure,  in 
ceasing  to  work  for  the  kingdom  of  his  Divine  Master, 
which  had  always  been  his  life  and  joy.  Several  times 
he  wanted  to  gather  himself  up  again,  and  became  almost 
impatient  when  the  physician  refused  to  allow  it.  But 
his  affectionate  sister  now  reminded  him  of  what  he  used 
to  say  to  her  in  sickness,  to  engage  her  submission  to 
medical  treatment  :  "It  conies  from  God  ;  therefore 
must  we  suit  ourselves  to  it  cheerfully."  Calmed  at 
once,  and  as  it  were  ashamed,  he  replied  :  "  That  is 
true,  dear  Hannah  ;  it  all  comes  from  God,  and  we  must 
thank  IJini  for  it."  So  formerly  St.  Chrysostom,  whose 
life  and  deeds  jSTeander  had  delighted  to  portray,  expired 
in  l)anishment  with  the  exclamation  :  "  God  be  praised 
for  all  !" 

A  few  hours  before  his  dissolution,  on  Saturday  after- 
noon, the  modern  "  Father  of  Church  History"  once 
more  collected  his  sinking  strength,  and  taking  up  the 
thread  of  his  unfinished  work  just  where  he  had  left  off 
before,  dictated  an  account  of  the  so-called  "  Friends  of 
God,"  those  remarkable  German  Mystics  of  the  four- 


160  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

teenth  and  fifteenth  centuries,  who  helped  ^o  prepare  the 
"way  for  the  evangehcal  Reformation. 

After  this  appropriate  conclusion  of  his  literary  activ- 
ity, about  half-past  nine  o'clock,  he  longed  for  rest, 
and  in  a  sort  of  half  dream,  as  at  the  end  of  a  toilsome 
journey,  addressed  his  sister  with  the  significant  words  : 
"  /  am  wea7'y,  let  us  go  home  P''  When  the  bed  had 
been  put  in  order  for  his  last  slumber,  he  threw  the  whole 
tenderness  and  affection  of  his  heart  once  again  into  a 
scarcely  audible  "  Good-night  1'''"^ 

lie  slept  for  four  hours,  breathing  always  more  softly 
and  slowly  ;  and  with  tlie  morning  of  the  Lord's  Day, 
on  what  is  styled  in  the  Christian  year  the  Sunday  ^f 
Refreshing,  he  awoke  in  the  morning  of  eternity  among 
the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect.  There  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  great  and  good  men  of  past  ages,  with  whom 
he  was  so  familiar,  he  rests  from  his  labors,  in  adoration 
of  llim  who  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  all  history. 

IS'eander  died  within  a  few  weeks  of  several  prominent 
men  of  his  age — a  statesman  of  England,  a  President  of 
the  United  States,  and  a  King  of  France.  He  had 
occupied  no  ministerial  post,  like  Sir  Robert  Peel  ;  had 
won  no  laurels  of  victory  on  the  battle-field,  like  Presi- 


*  There  is  a  slight  variation  in  the  reports  of  his  significant  fare- 
well words.  Kauh  {Zun  Geddchtniss  Aug.  Neand,,  p.  9)  gives  them  : 
"  Icli  bin  rniide  ;  icir  wollen  unsfertig  maclien,  um  riach  Hause  zu  gehen." 
Krummacher  (p.  25)  :  "  Ich  bin  rniide  ;  loir  wollen  uns  fertig  machen  und 
nnch  JIause  gehen."  Str.iuss  (p.  18)  :  "  Ich  bin  mude,  lass  wis  nach 
Hause  gehen."  He  omits  the  words  :  "  Let  us  get  ready."  All  agree 
as  to  the  last  word — "  Good-night."  Strauss  adds  :  "  Lieher,  theurer 
Freund,  wir  horen  deinen  Abschiedsgruss,  wir,  Deine  Schiller,  Beine 
Freunde,  Deine  Verwandlen,  Deine  verwais'e  Schioesier.  Wir  horen  ihn 
heute  auf's  Keue  und  werden  ihn  bis  ans  Ende  unserer  Tage  hijren  ;  und 
wir  ericiedern  ihn  mil  miserem  beienden  :  Oule  Nacht,  das  Dich  in  die 
Ewigkeit  hiniibcrbcgleitei." 


SICKNESS    AXD    DEATH.  161 

dent  Taylor  ;  had  adorned  no  tlirone,  like  Louis  Philippe  ; 
and  in  the  loud  tumult  of  worldly  life  his  voice  was  not 
heard.  But  from  his  lecture-room  and  solitary  study  he 
exercised  an  influence  quite  as  far-reaching  and  endur- 
ing as  that  of  any  of  his  companions  in  life  and  death. 
His  influence  was  only  more  deep  and  beneficent  by  being 
inward  and  spiritual,  and  will  continue  to  be  felt  without 
interruption  as  long  as  theologians  and  ministers  of  the 
gospel  shall  be  trained  for  their  heaven  appointed  work. 
Though  political  history  knows  nothing  of  the  quiet, 
humble  scholar  in  Berlin,  his  name  shines  but  the  more 
illustriously  for  this  in  the  records  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  which  will  outlast  all  governments  of  earth. 
Tliough  no  monument  should  be  raised  to  him  of  brass 
or  marble,  a  far  better  memorial  is  already  secured  to 
him  in  the  grateful  hearts  of  thousands  who  have  been 
his  hearers,  or  readers,  or  who  in  coming  time  shall  draw 
from  his  works  a  knowledge  of  the  sorrows  and  joys,  the 
conflicts  and  triumphs,  the  all-pervading  and  transform- 
ing power  of  the  Christian  religion,  as  well  as  from  his 
life  the  priceless  lesson,  that  all  true  spiritual  and  moral 
greatness  roots  itself  in  simplicity,  humility,  and  love. 

"  The  dead  are  not  dead,  but  alive." 

Ik- 
Hannah  Neandor  never  recovered  from  the  death  of 
her  brother.  Her  cheerfulness  was  gone.  She  walked, 
no  more  unter  den  Linden  and  in  the  Thiergarten  ; 
she  never  visited  Carlsbad  again  ;  she  kept  on  a  wid- 
ow's mourning,  and  moved  away  from  the  Markgrafen- 
strasse  to  a  desolate  home  nearer  her  brother's  grave. 
There  she  sat  hour  after  hour  with  her  weary,  half-blind 
eyes  fixed  upon  a  bust  of  Neander.  When  a  friend 
wished  her  a  happy  birthday,  she  replied  :  "Don't  !  I 


162  REMINISCEIfCES   OF  NEANDER. 

have  no  more  birthdays,  for  I  have  no  more  life."     She 
died  July  2d,  1854. 

THE   FUNERAL. 

Seldom  did  a  death  create  more  genuine  sorrow,  and 
a  funeral  attract  more  attention  in  Berlin  and  through- 
out Germany  than  that  of  Neander. 

Dr.  Friedrich  Strauss,  Neander's  colleague  and  tlie 
favorite  chaplain  of  King  Friedrich  Wilhelm  IV.,  deliv- 
ered an  address  in  the  house  ;  Dr.  Friedrich  W.  Krum- 
macher,  the  greatest  pulpit  orator  of  Germany,  spoke  at 
the  open  grave  in  the  Jerusalem  Churcli-yard  ;  and  Dr. 
K.  Immanuel  JSIitzsch,  Professor  of  Theology,  concluded 
the  solemnities  with  an  address  in  the  Aula  of  the  Uni- 
versity before  the  assembled  learning  of  the  metropolis. 

Strauss  chose  for  his  text  the  words  :  "  That  disciple 
therefore  whom  Jesus  loved  saitli  unto  Peter,  It  is  the 
Lord"  (John  21  :  7).  lie  cliaracterized  his  departed  friend 
as  a  genuine  disciple  of  St.  John,  lilled  with  the  love  of 
Christ,  who  in  all  the  paths  of  church  history  traced  the 
miracles  of  Christ's  love,  but  who  also,  like  the  "  Son  of 
thunder,"  kindled  in  wrath  against  the  enemies  of  his 
Master.  And  truly  he  was  a  forerunner  of  the  Johan- 
nean  love  and  |>eace  which  sooner  or  later  will  dawn 
npon  the  Church  and  solve  its  discords.  Krummacher 
called  him  "  one  of  the  noblest  of  the  noblemen  in  the 
kingdom  of  God,  a  prince  in  Zion,"  of  whom  it  may 
be  said,  as  of  John,  ''  that  that  disciple  should  not  die." 
Nitzsch  spoke  of  his  merits  as  an  historian  who  revolu- 
tionized church  history,  and  made  it  a  book  of  devotion 
as  well  as  instruction,  who  awakened  sympathy  for  every 
manifestation  of  Christ's  spirit,  and  v.'ho  fully  verified 
the  word,  "  Seek  the  tliinga  that  are  above  where  Christ 
is,  and  not  the  things  that  are  upon  the  earth."     "He 


A   VISIT  TO   NEANDER'S  GRAVE.  103 

left,"  said  Nitzsch,  "  the  Lest  example  of  true  greatness 
based  on  simplicity  and  humility — Have  j>ia  animay  * 


On  the  25th  of  August,  1S84:,  I  made,  in  company  with 
a  Lutheran  clergyman^  Dr.  Stuckenberg,  then  Ameri- 
can chaplain  in  Berlin,  a  pilgrimage  to  Neander's  grave 
in  the  Alte  Jerusalemer  KirchJiof.  There  he  rests  be- 
tween his  mother  and  his  sister  Hannah.  An  iron  railing 
surrounds  the  lot,  and  a  cypress  grows  on  the  mortal 
remains.  A  marble  bust  of  Neander  in  relief,  erected 
by  his  sister,  marks  his  grave,  and  bears  the  simple  in- 
scription : 

August  Keandeb 

geb.  16  Jan.  1789 

gest.  14  Juli  1850. 

Dem  unvergesslichen  Bruder 

die  Schwester. 

1  Cor.  xiii.  12. 

The  verse  referred  to  was  a  favorite  text,  which  is 
added  to  his  picture  in  the  Boston  edition  of  his  Church 
Ristory :  '  ^  Now  we  see  in  a  mirror,  darkly  ;  but  then 
face  to  face  :  now  I  know  in  part  ;  but  then  shall  I  know 
even  as  also  I  have  been  known." 

To  his  right  repose  the  ashes  of  Neander's  mother  and 
married  sister,  marked  by  two  iron  crosses,  with  the  in- 
scription : 


*  Zum  Gedachtniss  August  Meander's,  herausgegeben  zum  Besten  des 
Neanderschen  Krankenvereins,  Berlin  (Karl  Wiegandt),  1850,  pp.  36. 
This  pamphlet  contains  an  account  of  Neander's  last  illness  by  S. 
Kauh,  Lie.  theol.,  and  the  throe  funeral  addresses  of  Strauss,  Krum- 
macher,  and  Nitzsch. 


164  KEMIiflSCENCES    OF    ifEANDER. 

Eine  eclle  Frau,  ei?ie  gute  Mutter, 

EleojStoke  ]N"eander, 

geb.  Frankfurt  a.  2L,  Sept.  24  1755, 

gest.  Berlin^  7  Juli  1818. 

The  name  of  his  married  sister  : 

Caroline  Henrietta  Scholtz  (1778-1860). 

To  the  left  of  Neander  rests  his  faithful  sister  Hannah, 
who  took  such  good  care  of  him.  A  marble  cross  is 
erected  on  her  grave,  and  bears  the  inscription  : 

Johanna  Neander, 
gestorhen  2  Juli  1854. 

On  the  back — 

' '  Selig  sind,  die  hn  Herrn  sterben. ' ' 
("  Blessed  are  those  who  die  in  the  Lord.") 

On  the  same  and  the  following  day,  and  in  company 
with  the  same  American  friend,  I  visited  the  graves  of 
Fichte,  Hegel  (and  his  wife,  who  survived  him  several 
years),*  Schleiermacher  (and  his  wife  and  son  Nathan- 
ael),  Marheineke,  Steffens,  and  other  celebrities  of  the 
Berlin  University.  They  awakened  in  me  touching 
reminiscences  of  the  days  of  my  youth ;  but  none  made 
60  deep  an  impression  on  my  heart  as  the  grave  of  my 
beloved  teacher  and  friend,  Neander. 


*  Hegel  died  in  1831,  nine  years  before  I  came  to  Berlin,  but  I 
knew  his  widow  very  well.  Her  maiden  name  was  Marie  von 
Tucher.  Her  cousin,  Mrs.  Dr.  Tholuck,  introduced  me  to  her  in  1840. 
She  was  an  excellent,  pious  lady,  and  a  friend  of  Gossner.  She  was 
much  disturbed  by  the  developments  of  the  radical  left  wing  of 
Hegel's  school  (the  so-called  "  Hegelingen"),  and  the  appearance  of 
the  infidel  Life  of  Jesus,  by  Strauss  ;  but  she  assured  me  that  her 
husband  would  have  utterly  disowned  it.  She  believed  him  to  be  a 
good  Christian,  though  he  seldom  went  to  church.  He  used  to  make 
the  characteristic  excuse  :  "  Mein  Uebes  Kind,  das  Denken  ist  auch 
Qotiesdieyist." 


A   LETTER   OF   NEANDER.  1G5 

I  also  called  on  his  only  surviving  colleague,  Leopold 
von  Ranke,  the  greatest  living  historian,  who  after 
publishing  many  special  histories  of  the  highest  merit 
is  crowning  his  life's  work,  in  his  ninetieth  year  (he 
was  born  in  1795,  six  years  after  his  friend  Keander), 
by  dictating,  with  unclouded  mind  out  of  the  fulness  of 
information,  a  general  history  of  the  world.  He  gave 
me  a  most  interesting  account  of  his  daily  habits  and  his 
views  on  some  of  the  great  problems^  of  the  age.  He  is 
in  full  sympathy  with  the  evangelical  catholic  spirit  of 
Neander.  I  shall  not  forget  his  wise  words  concerning 
the  controlling  power  of  religion  in  the  course  of  history. 

A    LETTER   OF    NEANDEK. 

For  several  years  (from  1840  to  1844)  it  was  my  priv- 
ilege to  enjoy  the  personal  acquaintance  of  Neander, 
first  as  a  student,  afterward  as  a  teacher  in  the  Unis^er- 
sity.  1  heard  his  lectures  on  modern  church  historj^, 
which  were  never  published.  He  frequently  invited  me 
to  dinner  with  older  and  wiser  men,  and  I  spent  many 
hours  in  his  study.  1  never  left  his  presence  without  an 
impression  of  his  greatness  and  goodness.  It  was  es- 
pecially at  his  recommendation  that  I  received  and  accept- 
ed a  call  as  professor  of  church  history  and  exegesis  from 
the  German  Reformed  Church  in  the  United  States.  I 
never  regretted  that  1  followed  his  advice  ;  for  America 
has  proved  to  me  a  second  and  better  fatherland. 

It  was  therefore  a  natural  feeling  of  gratitude  which  ' 
prompted  me  to  dedicate  to  him  the  first  German  edition 
of  my  History  of  the  Apostolic  Churck,  which  was  finished 
during  his  life,  but  not  published  till  after  his  death.  In 
reply  to  my  request  for  permission,  he  wrote  to  me  with 
trembling  hand,  when  nearly  blind,  the  following  letter, 
which  is  no  doubt  one  of  his  last.     It  shows  his  kindness 


166  REMINISCENCES   OF   NEANDER. 

of  heart,  and  gives  his  view's  on  the  abortive  political 
convulsions  which  shook  Germany  in  the  closing  years 
of  his  life. 

Mein  theubek  Feeund  : 

Icli  kann  Ihnen  nur  meinen  herzlichen  Dank  sagen  fiir  das  Zeichen 
Hires  liebevollen  A.ndenkens,  das  Sie  mir  offentlich  geben,  und  fiir 
die  Ehre,  die  Sie  mir  erweisen  wollen,  indem  ich  Ihnen  zu  Ihrem 
Werke  alle  Erleuchtung  und  Kraft  von  oben  wiinsche. 

Was  Ihr  Journal  betrifft,*  so  glaube  ich,  ich  habe  etwas  von  dem- 
selben  durch  Ihre  Giite,  fiir  die  ich  herzlich  danke,  erhalten.  Es  ist 
gut,  dass  Sie  mich  daran  erinnern.  Ich  kann  jetzt  leicht  etwas  ver- 
gessen  und  unbenutzt  liegen  lassen,  da  ich  nur  durch  fremde  Augen 
lesen  kann,  seit  zwei  Jahren  leidend  an  den  Folgen  einer  auf  die 
Augen  zuriickgefallenen  Gicht. 

Ich  hatte  mir  vorgenommen,  Ihnen  zugleich  mit  diesem  Briefe 
etwas  Neues  von  mir  und  meine  neuen  Auflagen  zuzusenden  ;  aber 
es  ist  nun  unterblieben,  da  es  sich  gerade  trifft,  dass  ich  alle  Exem- 
plare  friiher  verschenkt  habe.  Wenn  der  gniidige  Gott  mich  nicht 
mit  meiner  Augenkrankheit  heimgesucht  hatte,  wiirde  ich  wohl  liingst 
die  Freude  gehabt  haben,  meinen  neuen  Band  der  Kirchengeschichte 
bis  auf  die  Reformation,  vielleicht  die  Eeformationsgeschichte  selbst, 
Ihnen  zusenden  zu  konnen. 

Was  man  in  dem  traurigen  Jahre  1848  in  unserem  armen  Vater- 
lande  Freiheit  nannte,  ist  etwas  ganz  anderes,  als  was  der  aus  den 
Bliithen  englischer  Frommigkeit  stammende  Geist  in  Ihrem  Amerika 
sucht  und  meint.  Es  war  hier  der  Kampf  zwischen  Atheismus  und 
Christenthum,  zwischen  Vandalismus  und  achter  Bildung.  Schon  vor 
Jahrzehnden  weissagte  ich  es,  dass  die  Weltweisheit  des  einseitigen 
Logismus,  des  Verstandesfanatismus  und  der  Selbstvergtitterung  zu 
diesen  Folgen  ihrer  consequenten  Negationen  fiihren  mtisse,  wie 
durch  die  Popularisirung  derselben  geschehen  ist.  Nicht,  als  ob 
diese  Weltweisheit  allein  die  Schuld  triige,  aber  sie  war  der  conse- 
quenteste  wissenschaftliche  Ausdruck  des  herrschenden  Zeitbewiisst- 
seins  und  seiner  Richtung.  Dabei  laugne  ich  nicht,  dass  auch 
wahre  Bediirfnisse  im  Zeitgeiste  vorhanden  sind,  und  dass  nur  durch 
Befriedigung  derselben,  welche  allein  das  Evangelium  zu  gewahren 
vermag,  dauernde  Heilung  erfolgen  kann. 

Wir  stehen  am  Kande  des  Abgrundes,  des  Untergangs  alt-europai- 
scher  Bildung,  oder  an  den  Grenzen,  wo  eine  neue  schopf erische  Aera 


*  "  Der  Deutsche  Kirchenfreund,"  publ.  Mercersburg,  Pa.,  1848-1854. 


A   LETTER   OF  KEANDER.  1G7 

diirch  mannigfache  Stiirme  sich  anbahnen  soil,  ein  neuer  grosser  Act 
in  dem  Weltumbildungsprocesse  des  Christenthums.  Wir  wollen 
von  der  Gnade  des  langmiithigen  Gottes  das  Letztere  hoffen. 

Ihnen  den  reichsten  gottlichen  Segen  fiir  all  die  Ihrigen,  fiir  Ihren 
Beruf  und  AUes,  was  der  gnadige  Gott  in  Ikre  Hiinde  gelegt  liat, 
■wiinschend,  verbleibe  ich 

herzlich  der  Ihrige, 

A.  Neandee. 
Berlin,  den  28sien  Oct.  1849. 

My  deak  Fbiend  : 

I  can  only  return  my  hearty  thanks  to  you  for  the  testimony  you 
publicly  offer  me  of  your  affectionate  remembrance,  and  for  the  honor 
you  propose  to  show  me,  while  I  desire  for  you  in  your  work  all 
illumination  and  strength  from  on  high. 

As  regards  your  Journal,  I  believe  something  of  it,  through  your 
kindness,  has  reached  me,  for  which  you  have  my  hearty  thanks.  It 
is  well  that  you  have  reminded  me  of  it.  I  may  now  easily  forget 
anything,  and  let  it  lie  unused,  as  I  can  read  only  through  other 
people's  eyes,  having  suffered  for  two  years  past  from  the  conse- 
quences of  a  paralysis  settled  in  my  own, 

I  had  intended  to  send  you  along  with  this  letter  something  new  of 
my  publications  and  new  editions  ;  but  it  is  now  omitted,  as  it  just 
so  happens  that  all  my  copies  have  already  been  given  away.  If  the 
good  Lord  had  not  visited  me  with  disease  in  my  eyes,  I  would 
have  had  the  pleasure  long  since  of  being  able  to  send  you  a  new 
volume  of  the  Church  Hisioi-y  as  far  as  the  Keformation,  and  perhaps 
by  this  time  even  the  History  of  the  Befonnation  itself. 

What  men  called  freedom  in  our  poor  fatherland,  during  the 
mournful  year  1848,  is  something  very  different  from  what  is  sought 
and  meant  by  the  spirit  which  has  been  horn  from  the  best  English 
piety  in  your  America.  It  was  a  conflict  here  between  atheism  and 
Christianity,  between  vandalism  and  true  civilization.  Even  many 
years  ago  I  predicted  that  the  secular  wisdom  of  a  one-sided  intel- 
lectual fanaticism,  and  self-deification  must  lead  to  this  proper  con- 
sequence of  its  negations,  as  by  their  popularization  has  now  come 
to  pass.  Not  as  though  this  philosophy  alone  were  in  fault,  but  it 
was  the  most  strictly  consequent  scientific  expression  of  the  reigning 
spirit  of  the  age  and  its  tendency.  Nor  will  I  deny  that  there  are 
true  wants  also  at  hand  in  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  that  nothing 
short  of  their  satisfaction,  which  the  gospel  alone  has  power  to 
secure,  can  bring  any  lasting  relief. 


168  REMINISCENCES    OF    NEANDER. 

"We  stand  on  the  brink  of  an  abyss,  the  downfall  of  the  old  Euro- 
pean culture,  or  else  on  the  confines  of  a  new  creative  era,  to  be 
ushered  in  through  manifold  storms — another  grand  act  in  the 
world-transforming  process  of  Christianity.  From  the  mercy  of  a 
long-suffering  God  we  will  hope  for  the  last. 

Praying  that  God's  richest  blessing  may  rest  on  your  family,  on 
your  work,  and  all  that  the  merciful  God  has  intrusted  to  your  hands, 
I  remain 

Affectionately  yours, 

A.  Neandeb. 

Berlin,  28ih  Oct.,  1849. 


165 


THE  SCHAFF-HERZOG  ENCYCLOPEDIA* 


A  RELIGIOUS  ENCYCLOPEDIA  ;  or,  Dictionary  of  Biblical,  Historical, 
Doctrinal  and  Practical  Theology.  Based  on  the  Real-Encyklopadie  of 
Herzog,  Plitt  and  Hauck.  Edited  by  Philip  Schaff,  D.D.,  LL.D., 
assisted  by  Rev.  Samuel  M.  Jackson,  M.A.,  and  Eev.  D.  S.  Schaflf,  and 
438  of  the  ablest  scholars  in  Europe  and  America.  In  three  large 
volumes.  Royal  8vo,  cloth,  per  roZ.  §0.00;  sheep,  $7.50;  half  morocco, 
$9.00;  full  morocco,  gilt.  $12.00. 

OPINIONS  OF  AMERICAN  CRITICS: 

BoswellD.  Hitchcock,  D.D.:  "  I  know  of  no  work  that  equals  it." 
Howard  Crosby,  D.D.,  LL.D.:    "A  standard  authoriiy  on  all  reUglous 
knowledge." 
Bishop  Simpson  :  "A  very  valuable  work  of  reference." 
Morgan  Dix,  D.D.,  LL.D.:  "  Unsurpassed  by  anything  yet  published." 
\V.  Ormiston,  D.D.,  LL.D.:  "Shows  laborious  carefulness  and  vigilant 
accuracy." 
Prof.  M.  B.  Riddle,  D.D.:  "  The  entire  work  is  most  excellent." 
Charles  S.  Robinson,  D.D.:  "  Unequaled  for  scholarship,  clearness,  con- 
densation." 
Prof.  A.  A.  Hodge,  D.D.:  "For  a  long  time  it  can  have  no  rival." 
Noah  Porter,  D.D.,  LL.D.:  "I  do  not  hesitate  to  recommend  it." 
E.  J.  Wolf,  D.D.:  "  An  extraordinary  example  ofviultum,  inparvo." 
E.  D.  Morris,  D.  D.:  "  Characterized  by  ability  and  thoroughness." 
R.  S.  Siorrs,  D.D.:    "  A  work  of  immense  value." 
Prof.  Edwards  A.  Park,  D.D.:  "Preeminently  valuable." 
John  Hall,  D.D.:  "  Of  great  and  lasting  value." 
T.  W,  Chambers,  D.D.;  "  In  fullness,  fairness,  accuracy  it  is  unequaled." 

OPINIONS  OF  FOREIGN  CRITICS: 

Prof.  H.  Calderwood,  D.I>.,  University  of  Edinburg:  "  A  most  valuable 
religious  encyclopaedia." 

Rev.  Samuel  G.  Green,  D.D.,  Sec.  London  Religious  Tract  Society:  "The 
Schaflf-Herzog  Encyclopedia  is  most  satisfactory  in  every  respect." 

Prof.  Edward Reuss,  D.D. ,  University  of  Strasburg;  "  The  work  is  exceed- 
ingly rich,  handsomely  gotten  up;  indispensable  to  the  student;  it 
must  succeed." 


•  An  Appendix  to  The  Schaflf-Herzog  Encyclopjedia,  being  "  A  Dictionary 
of  Living  Divines,"  will  be  published  in  1886. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS,  Publishers,  lo  &  la  Dey  St.,  New  York. 


THE  OLDEST  CHURCH  MANUAL. 


CALLED  '•  TEACHING  OF  THE  APOSTLES,  witli  niustrations  and 
Fac-similes  of  the  Jerusalem  MS.,  and  Cocnate  ■Documents.  Edited 
by  Philip  Schaff,  D.D.,  LL.D.    8vo,  cloth,  301  pp.,  $2.50. 

OPINIONS  OF  FOREIGN  CRITICS : 

Z)r.  Piummer  (Master  of  UnivcKity  College,  Durham):  "It  is  the  best 
■work  on  the  Didacke  that  has  as  yet  appeared,  and  those  who  have  not 
provided  themselves  with  a  commentary  ou  the  newly  discovered  treas- 
ure should  provide  themselves  with  Dr.  Schaflf's  most  interesting  book." 

Dr.  Oscar  von  GfWiardt  (of  Berlin,  the  discoverer  of  the  Latin  fragment  of 
the  Didache):  "A  true  standard  work,  which  shows  on  every  page  the 
proof  of  the  mastery  of  the  material  and  literature,  even  into  the  remotest 
corners,  and  makes  an  impression  on  the  whole  of  an  exhaustive  treat- 
ment of  all  questions  connected  with  the  Didache." 

Thi  British  Quarterly  Review  (Oct,  '85):  "  With  characteristic  enthusiasm 
and  learning,  patience  and  comprehensiveness.  Dr.  Schaff  has  made  a 
study  of  the  Teaching  of  the  Apostles,  and  presents  it  to  us  in  a  complete 
literary,  ecclesiastical  and  theological  setting.  Scarcely  anything  related 
to  it  is  omitted.  .  .  .  It  is  by  far  the  most  complete  apparatus  criticus  for 
the  study  of  that  interesting  and  important  document." 

From  the  Athenaeum,  TionAon:  "  The  most  copious  work  on  the  Didache 
which  has  yet  appeared,  even  exceeding  Harnack's.  The  industry  of  the 
author  is  unusual.  The  volume  is  a  monument  of  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge and  careful  elaboration.  Like  all  Dr.  SchafTs  books,  it  is  characterized 
by  extensive  erudition." 

Dr.  KrawutzJ^y  (of  B.X6B\&u):  "  I  find  your  work  as  interesting  and  valu- 
able as  it  is  rich  in  its  contents,  notwithstanding  the  difference  of  our 
views  on  some  points." 

Prof.  Massebieau  (of  the  Protestant  Theol.  Faculty  of  Paris):  "This 
beautiful  work  on  the  Didache  is  most  complete  in  every  respect." 

Prof.  Menegoz{o{ TaiiB):  "  A  remarkable  book  on  the  Didache  which  I 
have  read  with  the  greatest  interest." 

Bishop  Ligh' foot :  "  A  very  complete  and  useful  edition  of  the  Didache, 
fuU  of  interest,  both  from  the  subject  and  from  the  treatment." 

OPINIONS  OF  AMERICAN  CRITICS  : 
Howard  Crosby,  D.D.,  LL.D.:  "  An  exhaustive  and  intensely  interesting 

work  which  all  students  of  church  history  should  possess." 
Prof.  Heman  Lincoln  of  Brown  University:  "Dr.  SchafTs  edition  is  beyond 

comparison  the  best  we  have  seen,  and  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired." 
The  Congregationalist,  Jinston:  "  Biblical  scholars  will  recognize  in  this 

work  a  most  scholarly,  candid  and  comprehensive  treatise," 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS,  Publishers,  lo  and  i2  Dey  St..  New  York. 


LIBRARY  OF  RELIGIOUS  POETRY. 


A  COLLECTION  OF  THE  BEST  POEMS  OF  ALL  AGES  AND  TONGUES. 
Edited  by  Phillip  Schafif,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  and  Arthur  Gilman,  M.  A.  New 
Edition.  Superbly  bound.    Eoyal  8vo,  1.004  pp.,  cloth,  $6.00. 

Full  Page  Steel  Engravings. 

John  Milton.  William  Cowper. 

Kobcrt  Si'Uthey.  Edmun  1  f>'pencer. 

J.  G.  Whittier.  Isaac  NVatts. 

Henry  W.  Longfellow.  William  Cullen  Bryant. 

Heury  Kirk  White.  Dante. 

William  Shakespeare.  Alfred  Tennyson. 

Jnhn  Hall,  D.D. :  "ItisJList,  discriminating  and  impartial  in  its  selec- 
tions. Nowhere  else  can  oce  find  in  a  volume  so  much  varied  wealth  of 
devout  sentiment  and  imagery,  with  enough  of  the  personal  in  brief 
biographical  notes  and  good  jiortraits,  to  aid  the  memory  and  imagina- 
tion." 

J.  G.  Whittier:  "  I  have  read  with  entire  satisfaction  The  Library  nf 
Religiius  Poetry.  It  supplies  a  want  which  has  been  long  felt,  and  its 
compilers  deserve  the  highest  ijraise  for  the  thoroughness  of  their  work. 
Their  good  taste  and  sound  ju  'gment  are  manifest  on  every  page." 

Noah  Porter,  Pres.  Vale  College:  "In  the  variety  and  good  judgment 
and  excellence  of  its  selections,  it  must  ijrove  a  house  treasure  to  any 
family." 

Mark  Hopkins,  D.D.,  LL.D. :  "  The  selections  are  ample  and  judicious, 
and  the  arrangement  is  admirable.  I  know  of  nothing  like  it  in  the  English 


Prof  Moses  Coit  Tyle--,  Unio .  nf  Wisconsin  :  "1  have  enjoyed  this  work. 
I  am  instantly  impressed  by  the  catholicity  as  well  as  the  delicacy  of  its 
principles  of  selection." 

Thomas  R.  Pi/nchon  D.D..  ex-Pres.  Tiinily  College  :  "  It  is  absolutely  es- 
sential to  erery  scholar,  and  cannot  but  have  a  most  powerful  influence  in 
cultivating  the  taste  and  purifying  the  imagination." 

Oliver  Wmdell  Holmes:  "  The  idea  of  coUscting,  classifying  and  publish- 
ing in  a  tingle  volume,  pocrcs  of  the  nature  of  those  here  brought  to- 
gether Eei=ms  to  mo  a  most  happy  one,  I  cannot  eloubt  that  it  will  be  wel- 
comed as  a  great  accession  to  every  English  and  American  Library." 

Roswell  D.  Hitchcock,  D  D  :  '  Such  a  collection  of  choice  poems,  so  care- 
fully arranged,  mnst  be  the  growth  of  years.  It  fairly  tires  me  to  thinli  of 
the  labor  it  has  ovideLtlj  cost.  B'jt  I  expect  much  comfort  from  it  in 
weary  hours." 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS,  Publishers,  lO  and  12  Dey  St.,  New  York. 


Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Libraries 


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